The Solemn Taste
by Stuart Pidasso
Summary: When a tourist escapes Heidi's trap, she and Jane will discover a man immune to their vampire special abilities. Unsure if they have stumbled upon another Bella, they decide to befriend him; however, he turns out to be a loner who would never harm a living thing, even to save his own life. Unable to charm him, the Volturi have only two options: kill the man or destroy his essence.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

In a lesser-known Italian art museum, approximately a dozen tourists entered one of the museum wings. Fanning out, they began admiring the obscure paintings on the walls, studying the ornate carvings of rare artifacts displayed in cabinets, and scrutinizing the delicate pieces under glass-covered pedestals that dotted the room. The tourists, a random collection of souls from all parts of the globe, mingled happily, all enjoying their second day of the all expense paid trip won online. Not everyone could remember entering the sweepstakes, but all felt as if this unexpected vacation had come at just the right moment. Fate, many believed, had blessed them.

Their tour guide, an elegantly dressed woman with lustrous, mahogany shoulder-length hair, stood motionless in the middle of the room. Her alluring red velvet dress hugged her body as her long, black gloves covered her arms up over the elbows, accentuating her feminine shape. Her peculiar eyes, dark violet in color, remained fixed on a small smudge on the shiny marble floor. The woman stood motionless in her exquisite high heels—fashionable shoes that would make most women struggle with discomfort within an hour; however, Heidi could stand in any pair of designer shoes indefinitely and never feel a hint of discomfort. In fact, she rarely felt any pain as a vampire—except for that brought on by hunger, which had recently began to overtake her thoughts over the last few days.

Heidi continued to stare at the smudge on the floor since this was only thing that had changed in this museum in months—her vampire brain having memorized every brush stroke laid onto canvas and every groove carved into wood and stone in the entire building. Playing the essential tour guide, she had to remind herself to move about the museum so not to draw unwanted attention. Her internal clock, punctual to the split second, made her turn slowly as she began to account for all her _sheep,_ smiling falsely at all those who greeted her. She then began moving slowly about the room to make certain that her assembled flock of tourist would not begin to stray.

She had carefully vetted these tourist though the internet, hunting each through various social network pages, occasionally infecting their computers with spyware to help uncover their browsing histories, and when need, their emails. Each person met one key requirement: none would be missed if they should happen to disappear from the face of the earth.

The hateful ones in her group may have loud online personas, but only a small number of followers with similar vile attitudes; notwithstanding, these people often had no real human contact. The perverted ones often had a smaller footprint on the internet, and even less natural human contact. And then there were the lonely souls, the ones who seemed to hate the whole human race; people who had already vanished from society by their own fruition.

This special tour guide, with her centuries of experience of hunting in the shadows—well before technology, had adjusted better than expected to the internet age. And despite these people being immune to Heidi's beauty and charm over the internet, this vampire had the gained wisdom of knowing just which buttons to push to entice these humans out of angry message boards and vile chat rooms, out of their soft chairs, and onto planes that would deliver them to her inescapable hands. Once met at the airport, these humans unknowingly became entangled in Heidi's irresistible attraction: helpless prey under the spell of sly and tenacious predator.

The carefree tourist drifted between the art pieces, seemingly enjoying the ancient Italian culture. Much like the humans before, these strangers spoke politely, if not minimally, to one another—unlike their rude and hateful online identities. However, despite the attempts of politeness, some of the tourist had begun to appear bored as they began to avoid others they judged beneath them. Whether tired from their long flights to Italy, or tired of having to be civil to their fellow human beings, their waning mental states were easy for the tour guide to read as she began counting the remaining seconds to her annoying corralling duties.

Though she only had to _pretend_ for one day, the procedure had to run like clockwork. She would meet the people the night before at the airport in order to bind them to her by means of irresistible attraction, her vampire gift that also gave her the power of persuasion, which made the group as a whole easily manageable. She then traveled with them on the tour bus to a special hotel secretly owned and staffed by her coven, the Volturi. The hotel inconspicuously sat in a part of the city free of cell phone reception, one that the tourists were told was also experiencing an "internet disruption". The tourists never complained, nor would they attempt to find other ways to connect to the outside world, for Heidi's special persuasion made them complacent to the isolation. After retiring to bed early—with the help of the celebratory glass of laced Italian wine, the tourist would wake late in the morning to be escorted back onto the tour bus for a slow drive through the countryside to be eventually deposited at the museum—the last stop in their brief vacation to Italy.

On the far side of the museum wing, a heavy wooden door slowly opened on creaky hinges, revealing a tall, muscular man as he stepped out of the shadows from a dimly lit stairwell below. Wearing a charcoal gray robe, the man pulled back the attached hood to reveal short black hair that glistened under the museum lights. Holding the door open, the large man nodded to Heidi.

The quasi tour guide's false smile became genuine as she mumbled softly in her ancient native tongue, "Finally." With an enthusiastically solitary clap, Heidi drew the attention of tourists as she announced, "It's time we proceed with the next step of our tour. _Would you kindly..._ follow me through this door and down some stone steps. We have something special planned for all of you, something rarely seen by the general public."

The flock of tourist enthusiastically began to follow Heidi as she first passed through the door. The group began to bunch around the large man holding the door open, each eager to descend into the darkness.

"Mind the steps," called back Heidi from below. "They are quite old and smooth. We don't want any of you to hurt yourselves on your first day to _Italia_."

The collection of people amiably followed one another down the dimly lit stairs as the large man in the charcoal rob continued to hold the door. The procession of tourist dwindled down quickly to the last person, a man in his late twenties who paused at the door. The large man gestured for the last tourist to pass through, only to be rebuffed by the man with a shake of the head.

When the large man's brow pinched together with a mix of annoyance and confusion, the tourist glanced briefly into the shadows, turning back to the man holding the door to announce, "I think that I'm going to skip the rest of the tour. I saw an interesting plaza during the bus ride over that I want to explore. Please tell the tour guide that I will find my own way back to the hotel. I'll rejoin the group tomorrow."

With a look of utter bewilderment, the large man stared at the tourist for a long moment before gesturing once again for him to pass through.

"Do you speak English?" asked the man, an American. "I apologize; I don't speak Italian."

"Ahhh," the robed man quickly began to say, trying to remember his rarely used English vocabulary. "You must...you...should stick with the group. You'll miss the..."

Hearing the large man's uncouth English, the tourist stepped back from the door and said, "Thank you again, but please let the tour guide know that I'm heading back on my own. My name is Steven Nash"

As the tourist turned away, the large man reached out to take hold of the tourist's collar when a pair of exuberant children burst into the room, their parents in close pursuit as they shushed them. The large man withdrew his outstretched hand as his target stepped out of reach. His facial features betraying his concern, the man called down into the shadows, "Heidi!"

The woman's high heels echoed loudly as she stepped lively up the stone steps. Appearing in the door, she glared at the much larger man in the charcoal robe. "What is it, Felix?"

The large Volturi guard gestured to the tourist exiting museum wing, weaving between the active children and their parents.

Heidi's eyes widen as the tourist disappeared from sight into the adjoining main room of the museum. "Wait here, Felix." The woman moved quickly across the room, increasing her pace when she found the man approaching the nearest exit that lead outside. "Sir, wait!"

The man turned and smiled politely at the approaching tour guide. "Oh, hi. I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to do some exploring on my own."

"What? Wa...wait. You're going to miss the best part of the museum if you leave now." Heidi stared into the man's eyes, recalling his name. "Steven? Right?"

"Yes. Please don't mind me. I'm not into historic paintings as much. I prefer to study architecture."

"No, no, don't go. This museum has much more than painting and artifacts. You should see the amazing tunnels below us. Some are hundreds of years old." The woman calmly reached for the man's hand, gently patting the dorsal side.

Eyeing the woman with a hint of suspicion, Steven pulled his hand away. "Um, no thank you. I want to study the exterior frescos at the large plaza the bus passed nearby before the sun goes down."

The man again turned to leave only to collide into a hooded teenage girl who stumbled backwards as she somehow remained on her feet. Startled by the collision, Steven reached out to help steady the girl. "So sorry. I didn't see you there."

Appearing equally surprised by the accident, the girl pulled back her charcoal colored hood as she smiled up at the young man to show no harm. Sliding her hands into robe pockets, she said, "Scusami."

With glowing cheeks, the abashed man proceeded towards the exit.

"Sir!" called out Heidi before bursting forward. She hastily peeled off one of her long black gloves and proceeded to grab the man by an exposed arm, her fingernails pressing lightly into his skin. She stared at him, waiting for his puzzled gaze to meet her own. When their eyes met, she said with clear resolution, "Please, Steven, _would you kindly_ come down stairs with me."

The man turned his attention down to his arm. "Your hand is freezing."

"What?"

"Your hand is freezing."

"It's my metabolism; I'm always cold."

When Steven tried to pull his hand away, he felt the woman's grip tighten. He looked into her face once more, finding her eyes narrowing as her grip further tightened after he again tried to pull away. "Excuse me," he said in a heightening tone.

Heidi slid up next to the man and spoke in a hushed voice. "Maybe you didn't hear—"

"Heidi," interrupted the teenage girl, her voice sounding more mature for someone appearing so young, "let him go."

Retaining her grip on the man, Heidi looked back over her shoulder. "But he—"

"Heidi," repeated the teenage girl with a glowered look.

The perturbed tour guide released the man, which in turn, caused him to stagger backward against the door. Heidi calmly straightened her posture as she clasped her hands before her waist and softly said, "Yes, Jane."

Steven slowly reached for the door's touch bar as his gaze drifted between the flustered appearing tour guide and the sullen teenage girl. When the girl's gaze turned from guide to him, an ominous feeling unexpectedly surged through him. Without parting words, the man pushed against the door's touch bar handle and stepped into the sunlight.

Heidi and Jane promptly stepped to the side, avoiding the brief exposure of sunlight that flashed across a narrow section of marble floor.

Once the door closed with a loud click, Heidi moved swiftly to Jane's side, speaking curtly in Italian, "Why did you let him go?"

"You were making a scene, like you are now." Jane gestured for them to walk. "You almost exposed yourself to the sunlight in your haste."

"That man didn't do what I say. No one has ever resisted me before. Never." Heidi frantically began donning the long sleeve glove she had removed in the hope of coercing the young man through skin contact.

"Shocking; I know." Jane looked up at her friend with a subtle smirk. "Are you going to be okay?"

Heidi sneered at her friend. "I'm not upset about that. I'm sure there was an explanation, but we have a lost... _sheep_. We don't know what's going to happen."

"We'll deal with this. We always do."

"But, Jane...," began Heidi, her gaze returning briefly to the exit door. "What if he returns to the hotel before us?"

"Don't worry about him," repeated Jane.

"What if he runs?"

Jane's confident smirk returned as she slowly removed an American passport from her charcoal gray robe. "He cannot run far. We'll take care of him tonight."

"What if he runs to the police?"

"I didn't steal his wallet. That will make him think he simply misplaced his passport. He'll spend hours searching before he contacts the authorities."

"We can't be certain."

Jane's gaze narrowed with displeasure as Heidi bit her lip out of frustration.

Though unrelated by birth, these two women were still bound by blood. Jane preferred not to be close to anyone except for her twin brother, Alec—the twins turned at the same time 1200 years ago. Jane enjoyed her solitude; however, she thought of Heidi as more than just Volturi; during Heidi's 400 plus years, she had become Jane's sole confidant outside her brother—a rare friend.

Jane placed a comforting hand over her friend's arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "We'll deal with it; I promise. There is no need to panic." Unexpectedly, Jane's vampire senses took hold, causing her to inhale deeply as her eyes fluttered. "Do you smell that?"

Never to ignore Jane's alertness, Heidi inhaled long and slow. She looked towards the adjoining hall that gave entrance to the tunnels below. "The fear?"

"Yes," replied Jane. "They have begun without us."

"How rude."

Jane nodded. "We both need to feed so that we're clear headed tonight. As soon as twilight comes, we'll track down our lost _sheep_." Moving quickly, Jane proceeded towards the dimly lit stairwell where their fellow Volturi guard, Felix, awaited them.

Heidi paused before the stairwell to look back towards the museum entrance. The man's escape had done something to her, something not experienced in decades: Heidi had become unraveled. Despite this great mischance, her inescapable hunger took precedence. She momentarily forget the tourist that had slipped away and proceeded to descend into the darkness.

Author's note: This story consists of 29 chapters.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

When Aro spotted his favorite Volturi guard, Jane, entering the masters' throne room, he smiled warmly, a smile perhaps larger than usual for having just fed. When a distraught Heidi stepped out of the shadows to stand next to Jane, Aro's smile faded.

The two other masters of the Volturi, Marcus and Caius, shared concern looks as they remained seated in their ornate thrones atop a marble platform set above a half dozen stone steps. The three sharply dressed leaders coolly gazed down from their perches in the centre of a hemi-circled marble chamber, a room free of furniture except for three thrones and a few accessory pillars that lined the back wall. Of the three masters—vampires each over three centuries old—Marcus, the eldest, sensed the urgency most.

Receiving subtle nods from Marcus and Caius, Aro stood from his throne to lead the questioning. "Jane, Heidi, such a pleasure to see some of our favorite children, especially after such a delightful feeding. No doubt, thanks to our Heidi's reliable due diligence." Aro stopped before the two women as they stood motionless, silent, and obedient, waiting to be address by any of the masters. Aro studied the two guard's expressions, as he often would for sport, seeking out any microscopic sign from either of the two stoic vampires. Following the source of the distress, he turned to Heidi. "But something went amiss this time? Speak freely, my child."

When Heidi hesitated, Jane spoke first, her voice assured and direct. "Master, we have a stray. A male left the group before we could guide him into the tunnels."

With pursed lips, Aro took a step back. "How can this be?"

Heidi broke her silence, the dismay still in her voice. "It's my fault, Master. He didn't respond to my persuasion. I'm not sure how, but he simply walked away from the group. This has never happened before. Please accept my apology."

"It's not Heidi's fault," injected Jane. "She did try to stop him at the risk of nearly exposing herself to the sun. I believe the man was simply immune to her gift, mine too."

Aro gazed at the distraught guard. "Don't fret my child. It was not the first time someone was immune to our special abilities; nor will it be the last."

Appearing to relax, Heidi began to say, "Thank you, Mast—"

"But," interrupted Aro with a raised finger, "your natural beauty and charm should have been enough to bend the will of most men."

Recognizing the return of Heidi's worry, Jane said, "Perhaps she was simply not that man's _type_ , Master. Those things can happen too."

The man lowered his raised finger, calmly clasping his hands behind his back. "Ah, perhaps you are right."

Caius began lightly tapping the armrest of his chair with his finger, a sound that resonated loudly in all the vampire's ears. "I take it that you are going to hunt him down tonight?"

Jane bowed. "Yes, Master,"

"But...," Aro began, anticipating that his favourite guard had more than a simple hunt planned.

Jane looked into Aro's eyes. "I would like permission to study the man."

Aro began to pace the room with slow, delicate steps. "Why?"

"Because of the recent events with the Cullen coven, particularly with a Bella Cullen."

Aro glanced up briefly at his fellow elders, smiling briefly before returning his attention to Jane. "You think this man could be a _shield_ , like Bella?"

"Perhaps, Master. That is why I would like to pursue this matter."

"Turn him," said Caius. "See what he can do. If he's worth keeping, you can then _persuade_ him to join our coven."

"Master," replied Jane, "what if he refuses to join our coven? We cannot bend his will if he's immune."

"If he doesn't do what we say, have Felix tear off his head," replied the master with a hint of annoyance.

Jane's gaze drifted to the seated Marcus, and then to Aro as she searched for a more delicate response than the one that had come to mind.

Knowing his prized guard, Aro read Jane's reaction and smiled. "Brother, our darling Jane doesn't think that prudent. Do child, tell us why."

Jane gave a slight nod of respect and said, "With the shift of power amongst the covens, not to mention, some of their new alliances, we need to strengthen our own."

Caius exchanged a brief look with the Marcus before rising from his throne to join Aro at the base of the steps. "We are already the most powerful coven. Or...do you disagree, Jane?"

"I agree with you, Master. I simply want more power. I want this coven to be even stronger."

Aro guffawed. "And so we shall, thanks to you, dear one. How would you like to proceed?"

" _If_ this human has a gift, we need to make him... _want_ to join our coven. This will guarantee his loyalty."

Caius sneered at the suggestion. "Just threaten him and be done with it."

Jane shook her head. "His immunity could allow him to escape. And Heidi may never be able to persuade him. In the last 100 years, our world has drastically changed for the worse. Our remaining undiscovered by the humans is becoming more difficult. Moreover, I don't want to make an enemy of someone who might be gifted. And I don't want to destroy a potential weapon if we don't have to."

With growing intrigue, Aro eyed Jane warmly. "So, how are you going to earn his trust?"

"I'm not," replied Jane. She nodded towards Heide. "She is."

Heide gasped before turning to her friend. "What? Me?"

"From your fishing, you already know everything there is to know about him. He has already been introduced to you."

"No, no," pleaded Heidi. "He's immune to my persuasion. I'm no use to you in this matter. You should be the one that befriends him."

With both hands, Jane gestured at her body, sneering as she said, "I'm a 1200-year-old vampire trapped in a teenager's body. He's not going to reason with me. Your power may not work on him, but you're still beautiful and charming—when you want to be. He's a human male. All you have to do is smile at him. If you have to, rub your body against his; that's bound to work."

"Uhg!" exclaimed Heidi. "I will not degrade myself with a lonely hu—"

"Silence!" barked Caius. The man turned sharply to ascend the steps to his throne. "You will both go and _reason_ with this man. If it appears that he will be uncooperative, kill him."

Neither woman dared to contradict the master. They stood as still as marble as their frustrations stewed.

"You have your orders," said Aro as he turned to ascend the steps. "Do report back to immediately."

For a fraction of a second, Jane stood defiantly still—time for the three masters to take notice—before replying, "Yes, Master." She turned slowly and exited the great chamber.

Left stunned, Heidi bowed nervously in respect before turning for the exit. She did not catch up to Jane until her friend reached the elevator. Entering the car, Heidi asked, "So, what do we tell this...Steven? I hope you have a plan."

"I do," replied Jane. "We'll tell him the truth."

 **...**

Fretting in his hotel room, Steven's hands wildly shifted through the suitcase contents that he had poured onto his bare mattress. He instinctively could tell that someone had rifled through his possessions, but he did not care; he had to find his passport. He stood up and padded his wallet in his front pocket, once again ruling out a pickpocket. This left him to conclude that the passport had been tucked into his suitcase—though he could not remember doing so.

 _And why was my room stripped of the bedding?_ he thought again as he sat on the bare mattress, searching between the pages of a travel magazine from the passenger jet.

At the sound of a knock on the door, Steven moved swiftly to the door in the hope that hotel staff had found his carryon bag, which had also been removed 'by mistake', as explained by the hotel manager. "After unpacking no less," Steven commented aloud before opening the door.

Much to his surprise, he did not find any hotel staff with his missing bag. In their stead, he discovered his tour guide and the teenager from the museum. "Heidi? Do you know what's going on with my room?" asked Steven in exacerbation. His eyes then shifted to the teenager, whose calm demeanour appeared unusual.

Jane removed the blue American passport from her robe pocket and held it up for the man to see.

"Is that mine?" he asked.

"You dropped it in the museum."

Steven gripped the small, softcover blue book, but he could not pull the pliable passport from the girl's two fingers. As he pulled, he began to step backward into his room as the girl followed through the door. "Excuse me, but this is my room...and...[ _grr_ ]...probably my passport. Please let go."

Heidi followed them into the room as the two continued to tug for control of the passport. Glancing into the hallway, the tall woman swiftly, yet silently, closed the door to the room.

"Hey, I never invited you in. And would you please let go of my pass—" Steven's body froze as his hand gripped Jane's exposed forearm. The cool touch of her skin sent shudders through his body. Steven had never encountered anything supernatural before, but he wholeheartedly recognized this… _thing_ to be no ordinary girl. Holding her arm, he thought it similar to gripping a metal railing anchored in concrete, unmoveable, cold to the touch. He released the teenager's arm and passport simultaneously.

Jane stood still so not send the man into a hysterics. Moving her head slightly, she said, "I recommend not panicking."

Steven took a staggered step backward as cold sweat began enveloping his body. He leaned against a folding metal chair at the foot of his bed and asked, "Are you human?"

Remaining in place, Jane smiled ever so faintly. "I used to be. Both of us."

The man began studying Heidi, who now stood to the side beside a tall dresser. "What are you then?" he asked, realizing that the tour guide now wore a matching charcoal grey robe over her red velvet dress.

Heidi shrugged faintly. "You will probably find it hard to believe."

Breathing deeper, more rapidly, Steven said in full disbelief, "What? Vampires?"

As Jane stood motionless, ready to act swiftly if needed, Heidi began gazing about the room when her eye fell upon a large metal coin atop the dresser. Picking up the coin for Steven to see, she proceeded to press her thumb into its center, bending the coin into a 90-degree angle. She tossed the coin to the stunned man. "Many of the fairytales taught to your as a child are actually true."

Turning the coin between his fingers, Steven found the metal warm from being forcibly bent. His breathing became shallower as his eyes shifted between his two unwanted guests.

Jane took one slow step forward and reached for the back of the metal chair. With one hand, she gripped the curved metal bar that formed the arching frame of the seat back, crushing the steel in her hand as if it were aluminium foil.

"Um...," began Steven before wiping noticeable perspiration from his brow. Glancing at the moisture on his fingers, his hand noticeably shook. "My instincts tell me that I should not scream; correct?"

"I wouldn't," replied Jane. "If you did, I'd be forced to silence you, and I'd probably take off your head in the process."

Steven suddenly felt as if he would be sick.

When Heidi saw the man cover his mouth, she promptly shuffled away. "No-no-no. These shoes are new." She pointed to the open bathroom door. "Go!"

Steven dashed into the bathroom as vomit exploded into his mouth, bursting between his fingers as he dropped to his knees before the toilet. He retched long and hard into the bowl. The force of each retch felt as if his eyes would burst out of his sockets. One of the women turned on the light to the bathroom as he progressed to dry heaves. After a couple long retches, the man slumped down onto the floor, resting an arm uncaringly over the rim of the toilet, his shirt soaked with sweat.

Heidi moved to stand behind Jane in the doorway. Seeing the mess, she said with a sneer, "Humans can be disgusting at times."

"No argument there," added Jane, equally repulsed.

His throat burning from stomach acid, Steven swallowed hard and asked the unthinkable, "Vampire?"

"Yes," replied Jane, her demeanour simple and honest. She then watched that familiar look of hopelessness that often came to her prey wash over the man's face.

Heidi thought the man too complacent with the discovery, commenting, "We never thought you would be so easily convinced."

Unable to stop his hands from trembling, Steven tucked them under his arms in a vain attempt to hide his fear. "What is there not to believe? I can sense your evil. I...I..." Steven nervously rubbed his numb face with both hands. "The sensation of meeting you is...indescribable."

"Indescribable?" Jane shared a perturbed look with Heidi before eyeing the disheveled man on the floor. "And there's no need for name calling. We're simple creatures who have evolved from our human form. Your lot is much more evil than us."

"Huh?" The terrified man appeared confused, on the edge of hysterics. "How can you say that? Do you not feed on people?"

"We do, for their blood," responded Jane in a flat tone. "But we only kill what we need to survive. Humans kill for sport, and in mass, something we don't do."

Heidi inserted herself between Jane and the doorway, adding, "You need not fear us; we actually came here to bring you good news."

"What? I've won another all expense paid trip, this time to Transylvania?"

"Sarcasm," said Jane with a slight smirk. "See, a normal human would never dare be sarcastic. Normal people become overwhelmed when introduced to the unseen world. Normal people would be still in denial about now. You're different mentally."

"I'm not. I'm not begging for my life because I know the futility of the situation. I've fallen into the tiger's cage with no possibility of rescue."

"You're also different in another way." Jane's focus intensified as she stared at the man. After several seconds, she relaxed and said. "Just now, when I was staring, you should have felt the worse pain in your life. You're special, and I want to know the how and why."

After a long pause, the man cleared his throat and asked, "I don't understand, aren't you going to kill me?"

Jane took a hand towel from a small shelf and tossed it onto the man's lap. "I'd prefer not to."

With trembling hands, the man took the towel and dabbed his mouth dry, saying to himself with a quivering voice, "Vampires? This cannot be happening."

"It's happening, we exist," announced Heidi as she leant against the doorframe.

"What do you want from me?" asked the man.

Jane knelt down to look the man squarely in the eye. "We want to turn you into one of us. We want you to join our family."

"Why?"

"It's the only way we can learn of your special ability," replied Jane.

Steven swallowed, fighting the urge to vomit. "Is becoming like you permanent."

"Are you kidding?" asked Jane as she stood. "Haven't you read the books? Or seen the terrible movies? They seem to have covered most of the facts."

The man's gaze drifted to the floor as he took deep, calming breaths that resulted in nervous, staggered exhales. He lifted his head swiftly to ask, "Do you really feed on blood? Do you actually kill?"

Jane's expression remained unsympathetic. "We all kill in our own way. All our existences require the demise of some living thing in some form or another, whether human or vampire."

"I've never killed."

Jane pointed to the man's leather shoes without commenting. When the man looked away, she frowned as the mess around toilet was becoming harder to ignore. She asked, "What did you eat tonight? I suspect it had a heartbeat just a few days ago?"

"I've never killed a fellow human, and I never plan to."

Heidi shook her head in dismay. "I suppose you're a tree hugger too."

"What if I am?"

"Then I have good news," began Heidi. "Vampires have almost no carbon foot print. In fact, our diet is beneficial to the planet."

As the man stared blankly at the woman, Jane turned to her friend. "Really?"

"Yes. I recently read a long article about carbon footprints and eco-travel. I did the math."

"No; I didn't mean that," said an annoyed Jane. "Do you really think this helps our current situation?"

Taking a deep breath, Steven asked, "What if I refuse to become like you?"

Jane looked down at the man. "I will have no option other than to silence you. We have remained a secret for a very long time, and there is a simple reason why."

Finding her small friend's direct approach caustic—if not unhelpful, Heidi tried to defuse the situation. "If you become like us, you will become virtually immortal. In addition, you would belong to the strongest coven. Think about it, you'd be free of wanting."

"I want my humanity." Hunching over the bathroom floor, the man turned his head away from the women as his body continued to tremble with fear, his pallor beginning to hint at shock.

Heidi wrinkled her nose as she turned to Jane. "If he's just going to sit there, maybe we can hose him off. The smell is starting to get to me."

"Humans always smell, even on their best days." Jane stepped out of the bathroom before asking her friend who followed, "Did you bring any money?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Give it to me." After receiving the money from Heidi, Jane whistled to the man on the bathroom floor, holding up the cash for him to see. "Here. This will cover any belongings you may have lost when the hotel staff emptied your room. There is also more than enough money to enjoy yourself about town."

Through the bathroom door, Steven stared at the teenage sized vampire with dumbfounded perplexity—as did Heidi.

"We'll return in...," Jane began to say, pausing as she assessed the man's character, "…in three days. That should be enough time for you to decide if you would like to be part of our coven." She carefully deposited the cash onto the corner of the mattress.

"Are you crazy?" Heidi asked as her friend turned for the main door. "What if he runs to the police?"

Jane stopped to glance at the disheartened man on the bathroom floor. She smiled and said, "This one's clever, a realist. He knows that the police would not listen. He also knows that if he should do anything stupid, it would result in a fate worse than death."

Heidi watched the man give a faint nod to Jane's words, upon which she turned to her small friend to receive a more reassured look. After a brief moment of contemplation, Heidi pressed her lips tight together as she nodded acceptance to the plan.

As the two women turned to leave, the man quietly said, "I suppose this explains the shocked look on the hotel manager's face when I returned. Is he one of you too?"

"No," replied Jane. "He simply knows not to ask questions. Do _you_ have further questions?"

Slowly, the man began to shake his head when his back straightened with a thought, "Can I have my passport?"

"No," replied Jane, to which Steven's gaze drifted back to the bathroom floor.

A second, even more sobering question came to Steven. He lifted his wavering head and asked, "So what happened to the other tourists?"

Jane stared at him with her indifferent, red eyes, a look that told him everything.

Realizing that he had escaped death twice this day, Steven lunged for the toilet. Since he had already emptied his stomach moments before, he heaved dryly. His internal pleas to God began spilling out between retches, pleas ignored by the two keen-hearing women departing down the long hotel corridor.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Steven collapsed onto the floor beside the toilet, physically and mentally exhausted from retching. He glanced up through the doorway to discover that his unexpected guests had left; however, he remained by the toilet, unmoving except for the faint trembling of nerves throughout his body.

Time continued to pass to his befuddled amazement, but how much, Steven did not know. Eventually, the foul smell of his vomit began to creep into his consciousness, forcing him to flush the emptied toilet once again to no effect. Discovering his soiled shirt to be the pungent source, the distraught man still could not bring himself to move as his thoughts continued to replay the prior events.

 _This is impossible. It's not real,_ he thought to himself. Then again, he knew that the events did transpire: a woman and a teenage girl had visited him. _It was elaborate hoax,_ he concluded until his inner self, that part that warns you of danger, convinced him otherwise.

Steven's pulse had just begun to slow to an occasional flutter when a knock on the door sent his heart racing once again. He peeled himself off the bathroom floor to discover in the mirror the extent of the mess that covered him from head to toe, also revealing at a second glance bloodshot eyes with specks of vomit in his hair.

When the following knock on the door sent a second jolt through his body, he hesitantly moved to the peephole to find a hotel porter. Steven opened the door and watched the porter's eyes scan him from head to toe. Steven then made the universal sign with thumb and pinky that he had drank too much, causing the porter to smile simply before the man presented Steven's "misplaced" carryon bag. Taking the bag from the porter, Steven motioned for him to wait as he retrieved money for a tip from atop his dresser.

After closing his hotel door, the distraught man proceeded to inspect the carryon bag at the edge of his bed. Peering inside, he could see that the contents had been hastily repacked. And from the light weight of the contents, he felt certain that not everything had been returned. _My God!_ _They let the hotel staff scavenge the belongings of the dead,_ he suddenly realized.

Jumping to his feet, Steven rushed out into the hallway and proceeded to knock on his neighbor's door. He had not introduced himself to most of the other tourist, all of which who had similarly won an "all expenses paid" trip from a contest that many could not remember entering, but he had spoken to the occupants in this room a few times, fellow Americans, a couple from Iowa. Knocking once more, he recalled that they were a couple with no children and no surviving family—just like himself.

Steven knocked on the door a third time and waited. He knocked again, harder, waiting even longer, but there was no answer. When no doors on the floor opened to the loud noise, he checked the handle to find it locked. All the rooms were locked. _As would be expected in a hotel,_ he thought feeling a bit foolish _._

Returning to his own room, Steven began pacing the room as the events once again replayed in his head. He contemplated again if the woman and teenager could be conning him. _But what for? An internet prank?_

Pacing by the dresser, Steven spotted the bent coin. He picked it up and tried to straighten the metal object. He went to his luggage in search of his travelling toolkit only to find that it had not been returned by whoever had rummaged through his bag—the thief never expecting its owner to return.

Steven then turned to the nearby metal chair, studying the crumpled metal bar that formed the back arch. The way the metal had been crushed appeared unique. He had seen metal pipes squeezed and forcibly bent before, but nothing like this. The metal had been squeezed into the shape of a small female's hand, as if fresh clay, something metal tools could never do.

Dumping the contents of his carryon onto the bed, Steven set aside some clean clothes and toiletries. He showered and dressed before filling the carryon bag with the remaining clean clothes. When he failed to find his cell phone charger, he cursed the people who had only aided in the disruption of his life. He turned to the dresser to collect his money when he finally remembered the fold of cash left the mattress by the teenager. Steven began counting the money, stunned to find the sum more than his yearly wage.

 _How can this be? Are these counterfeit?_ he thought with growing confusion. He inspected the bills again, more carefully, scrutinizing the large nominations he had only seen in movies. When nothing out of the ordinary was found, he tucked the cash into his front pocket. He also made sure to remember the bent coin, zipping it safely into a side pocket of the carryon before slinging the bag over his shoulder. As he proceeded to leave, he paused at the door and pulled out his cellphone, with which he took several pictures of the crushed metal of the chair's backrest.

As the first hint of summer sunrise on the horizon, Steve departed the hotel in search of a sanctuary.

 **...**

In some Italian village he could not name, a very lost and tired Steven slid his carryon bag from his lap onto the vacant pew. If he had not been so filled with dread, the high painted ceiling and fine architecture of the ancient stonewalled church would have tantalized him, despite having grown up under a different denomination.

By the time he had reached this remote village, having switched to a third bus to do so, the tremor in his hands had quelled, somewhat, but as night approached, the growing sound of rush hour traffic on the narrow village streets only increased his nervousness. Without the protection of the sun, Steven did not know if the church could keep him safe. For the first time in his life, he earnestly began to pray in a house of God.

From his left, the sound of an elderly woman exiting a confessional seem to resonated loudly through the vacant church as her wooden cane unintentionally banged against the old wood of the booth, echoing across the marble flooring and reverberating off the innate stonework of the walls. The old woman turned, gazed at the beautiful altar at the front of the church, and whispered something in Italian before proceeding towards the exit at the back.

As the woman slowly hobbled away, Steven would stare at the confessional between nervous glances over his shoulder. He had taken notice of the posted confessional hours when he first entered the church—the extent of his basic Italian. In fact, Steven had also taken notice of other small details in the church that would have been overlooked before; things he hoped would save his life, such as the small holy water fountain, candle flames, and the abundance of crucifixes.

With confession soon ending, and with no one else waiting to make their peace, Steven decided to speak to someone.

He left his carryon bag on the floor outside the confessional, just visible under the curtain, and slowly entered the booth, very unsure what he would find. As he took his seat, he jumped when a small window at his side opened swiftly. When the priest began whispering in Italian, Steven did not know how to proceed. When the man whispered a second time through the small window, Steven whispered back, "I'm sorry, I don't speak Italian."

After a short pause, the priest said, "Not a problem, I speak English."

"I'm also not a Catholic. If you want me to leave, I'll understand."

The man's lips betrayed his amusement. Liberated from protocol, the priest smiled fully and said, "Still not a problem. This house of worship is open to all. Would you like to make a confession?"

Steve thought for a moment. "I...I don't know. I'm here because I had a terrifying experience last night." Steven's mind raced, trying to think of a way to present the things he had witnessed the night before. "A woman...and a teenage girl entered my hotel room, uninvited, and...threatened me."

"Were you robbed?"

"No. Um...they...they said that I had to join their...cult, for the lack of a better term, or I would be killed."

"What kind of cult? Satanic?"

Steven stared at his carryon bag beneath the curtain. When he failed to answer the question posed by the priest, the unnerved man asked what had been truly nagging him. "Father, does evil truly exist?"

"Yes. Many believe so."

"Do you?"

The priest paused with a long sigh. "I'm very old and have heard many confessions. If _evil_ is a thing, it resides in all of us. It is our duty to resist that evil with the only weapons given to us by God: with compassion and love."

"I like that," said Steven. "I consider myself a pacifist; that all makes sense to me."

The priest took notice at how the young man's words seem to fade out at the end of his sentences. "I sense something more happened last night?"

"Um, yes. I thought I sensed great evil in those two girls. I felt it; I felt it down to my soul. Maybe I'm sick."

"I can help you get to a hospital if you think you need one?"

"Thank you, Father. I don't think that will be necessary. I think the pair must have been trying to trick me. They were very good with their con. For a moment, they had convinced me that they wanted to turn me into a vampire, like them. Normally I'm immune to being tricked, but somehow, I actually thought they were speaking the truth."

"But they did not rob you?"

"No," replied Steven. "They just simply spoke to me, told me the vampire garbage, and left. In fact, they left me money, a lot of it. See what I mean, none of this makes sense."

"It definitely sounds...mischievous, if I've picked the correct English. Most importantly, I'm glad no one was harmed. You will have quite the story to share once you travel home."

Steven cursed aloud, grimacing with regret. "Sorry, Father, but you just reminded me that they took my passport. I tried to take it back, but..."

"You're a pacifist?"

"Yes, sir."

"Nothing wrong about that. The world would benefit greatly if there were more like you."

Steven smiled. "Thank you, Father. I've always thought life too short to waste on hate and anger."

"Very true. There are criminal organizations that need stolen passports. Perhaps you were entrapped in an elaborate theft for yours. The money was to buy your silence, time perhaps."

 _But the girl already had lifted my passport, back at the museum,_ thought Steven _._ "Perhaps," he said after a long silence. "I suppose I need to call my embassy."

"Sooner than later, my child. And for that, I'll be praying for you. The devil wears many disguises, and some say bureaucracy is one of his favorites."

 _Priest humor?_ pondered Steven before sighing heavily with the unpleasant thought of visiting the notorious unfriendly embassy, which brought him back to his reason for running. "I have one more question, Father."

"Yes, my child, what is it?"

"Would it be okay for me to remain in the church overnight? I don't want to sleep on a pew or anything disrespectful. I just...I would simply like to pray through the night, to do some soul searching, if that makes any sense."

"It does make sense to me, but I'm afraid we close the church at 8 p.m. We can no longer leave the Church unattended like we did years ago."

"Oh, okay." Steven bowed he weary head, his sense of unease growing.

"There is a nice shelter run by nuns nearby. I can show you where it is."

"Thank you, Father. I noticed the hotels by the river coming into town. I'll simply find a room there."

"As you wish. Do you have any other concerns?"

"No, sir. I think that I'll return to the pew and pray a little more."

"Very good."

When Steven exited the confessional, he became slightly startled when the priest exited just after him, appearing quite old and balding, but muscular considering his age.

The priest stood up straight and dignified, smiling cordially. "It's tends to be very quiet this time of day."

Steven returned his smile. "It's peaceful here, very soothing."

"Yes it is," added the priest as he stepped away to an inconspicuous door at the side of the altar, parting with, "If you would excuse me."

Returning to his pew near the front, Steven resided himself to finding a room in one of the many touristy hotels. He debated how long he should wait, whether he should risk traveling in the twilight. Thinking it best to depart immediately, Steven still could not bring himself to leave his newfound sanctuary. He found the old church relaxing, and for the first time since the night before, his fear did not have a total grip on him, choking him with the taste of bile, making him feel as if he was about to jump out of his skin.

Steven may have never read the Bible, but he had faith. The melting candles, the religious artwork, even the altar did not represent God to him, but human's faith in a supreme being was something he shared with many churchgoers. Coming in touch with his spiritual being, the man closed his eyes and began to pray.

From behind, the sharp, echoing sound of high heels rudely interrupted Steven's prayers. The heels made hard clacks that echoed louder with each step. The confidence pace of the steps—and their tone—hinted to their owner, a certain female with mahogany shoulder-length hair and aloof stare.

Steven did not look back to see who was approaching. As the feeling of dread returned, stronger than before, his eyes came to rest on the altar as he began to recite one more prayer.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Steven's breathing halted when the approaching footsteps on the marble floor fell silent. As a woman in a charcoal grey robe appeared on right, he turned slowly to discover Heidi drawing back her hood before shaking her long mahogany hair into place—an action he would have thought magical if he were not expecting to die at that very moment. Steven began scanning for the teenager when Jane's distinct voice caused him to gasp as he spun around, finding her at the opposite end of the pew.

"Hello, Steven," began Jane as she pulled back her hood. "Did you enjoy your day of sightseeing?"

Heidi let her robe slide off her shoulders to reveal a yellow, summer dress with sleeveless shoulders. She tossed the robe over the end of the pew and said, "Shame you wasted most of your day on those crowded buses. Italy can be quite confusing to the uninitiated."

Jane slid onto the pew to the left of Steven. "You wouldn't have enjoyed the Vatican anyway. So many...people, they're everywhere. Even on the slowest days, they are like cockroaches scurrying about when you first turn on the lights."

Looking towards the back of the church, Steven could see through the large set of open double doors the fading sunlight that still illuminated the courtyard. Steven then turned to the standing tour guide, studying her revealing summer dress and bare skin. He then further studied the thin robe draped over the pew, rubbing the thin fabric between his fingers. Finally, he looked up at Heidi and asked, "Doesn't the sunlight kill you?"

"Nope."

"Does it hurt?"

"Not a bit"

Steven turned to Jane, who still wore her robe. "Why the robes?"

"So we don't draw attention to ourselves," replied Jane. "Our purified complexions seem to stand out, especially in the sun. Let's just say it's complicated."

Remaining on her feet, Heidi leaned casually on the pew, which made her cleavage more noticeable. "We'll be more than happy to explain everything to you at vampire orientation."

The priest appeared in a side doorway, his focus fixed on the woman in the bright yellow dress. "Miss," he said in English, assuming the two women to be associates of Steven, "this parish has a strict dress code. If you would be so kind to change into more appropriate attire, you'd be more than welcome to worship here."

"No," replied Heidi in a curt tone. She smiled as the priest stopped in his tracks with a stunned look. "In fact, Father, you're ecstatic to see me, not to mention yellow is your favorite color."

The priest's brow had knitted in response to the woman's insolence, but the muscles in his face began to relax, revealing a friendly smile. "I _am_ happy that you could visit. And may I say that is a lovely yellow; the color suits you so very well, miss."

"Thank you, Father."

Jane watched the astonishment spread across Steven's face, which led her to wonder about his visit to the church. She turned her attention to the priest. "Father, did you talk to our friend here?"

"Sorry, child, but I do not discuss the private of affairs of anyone who comes to my church for guidance."

Jane held her focus on the priest as she directed Heidi. "Ask him."

Reaching for one of the priest's hands, Heidi patted his skin as if she were his granddaughter. "Would you kindly tell me what was discussed between you and this man."

"Oh, um," staggered the priest as he recalled the event, "Ah, he asked me if there was such a thing as evil, and mentioned something about vampires. Not the first time I've been asked that, I'm afraid. The evil I mean. Oh, and he asked if he could spend the night in the church to pray."

Jane leaned close to Steven to whisper into his ear, " _Yes_ there are vampires, and _no_ this church will not protect you."

The priest continued to smile at Heidi with inexplicable joy, adding, "I told him that evil exists in all of us and that we must fight it with love and compassion. But I unfortunately had to tell him that he couldn't stay in the church, that there was a nice shelter down the street if he needs a place to stay for the night."

Jane leaned forward to peer around Steven and said to Heidi, "Ask him if _he_ believes in vampires."

With a simple nod, Heidi gazed once again into the old man's eyes. "Tell me, Father; do you believe in vampires?"

"Of course I do, my child. We've known about them since the beginning. However, only the most senior priests truly know of such things."

"I take it that you are one of these senior priests."

"Yes. Well, I was. Not many of us remain though, especially outside of Rome."

For a moment, Steven forgot about his fear and asked the priest, "Why do you keep vampires a secret?"

Heidi repeated the question.

"They are as part of God's world as much as any other living thing. And so, they must serve a purpose, even if we don't understand it. We keep vampires a secret for the same reason you don't kick a hornet's nest. The repercussions would be devastating to all of humanity. This was decided a long time ago."

Heidi looked to Jane for guidance. After receiving the customary nod from her friend, Heidi placed a guiding hand on the man's back and turned him away. "Thank you, Father. If you would be so kind, could you leave us so that we may speak in private?"

"Of course, my child."

"And by the time you lay down for sleep, you will have forgotten that you ever met us."

The priest looked over his shoulder with a confused look, as if he was already starting to forget. "Yes, yes," he simply repeated as he staggered away back through the door he had entered.

When the door closed behind the old priest, Heidi plopped herself onto the pew beside Steven. "So, are you enjoying your time in Italy?"

Steven glared at her. "You're not funny."

The woman shrugged. "I wasn't trying to be."

"Have you been trying to brainwash me like that priest?"

"Yes, but you appear to be immune to my gift."

Steven's eyes drifted to Heidi's bare shoulders, taking notice for the first time her smooth complexion. "The sun really doesn't harm you?"

"No. Neither will garlic or wooden stakes. Bullets cannot penetrate our bodies."

Finding the teenager much more serious, if not more mature, Steven asked her the most serious of his concerns. "Do you actually feed on human blood?"

Jane did not hesitate to answer, nor did she try to soften her response. "Yes. We need blood to survive." She pointed to her red irises. Red means I've fed in the past few days, black means I'm _very hungry_ and haven't fed in weeks."

Steven studied her irises, turning to Heidi to inspect their color. "How often do your eyes turn black?"

"Never if we can help it," replied Jane. "Hunger is quite unpleasant, whether human or vampire; wouldn't you agree?"

Not wanting to believe, Steven stared forward at the altar and said in a dismissive tone, "You could be wearing contacts."

Heidi calmly rose to her feet and walked to the altar, centering herself directly before Steven. She curtseyed like a lady before vanishing, leaving a soft audible gush of air in her wake. The woman appeared beside the holy fountain where she slowly plunged her hand into the water. She then vanished and reappeared beside Steven, flicking the water into his dazed face.

"You can move at speed of light?" he asked, wiping the water from his eyes.

"No," replied Heidi before returning to her seat next to the man. "Your weak human vision simply cannot track us at full speed."

"I thought I saw a blur," he commented softly as he rubbed his moist fingertips together, eventually focusing on the trembling of his hands.

Jane turned to the side, letting her arm come to rest on the back of the pew. Seeing the man's frightened expression, she forced herself to smile, which to most appeared as a faint grin. "We are not here to harm you. We really would like you to join our coven."

Steven clasped his trembling hands over his lap, his eyes remaining fixed on the altar.

Jane sighed ever so faintly. "Most people would jump at the opportunity of immortality and power."

Steven gnawed his lip for a moment before replying, "Most people are selfish and afraid. Of course they would do anything to stay alive."

Jane glanced down at the man's trembling hands. "Well, you're certainly afraid."

"Yes. I admit that I am terrified. I don't want to die. The hard part that I'm struggling with right now is not being selfish."

Heidi leaned on the pew before her in an attempt to look into Steven's eyes. "You won't die if you join us."

"Really," he replied, briefly meeting her gaze. "Doesn't something evil take the place of your soul?"

Finding the man's comment amusing, Heidi struggled not to laugh as she spoke. "Don't be silly. I am still who I was before my ascension. I have my human memories, even my likes and dislikes from before. The only thing that has changed is my diet."

"Uh huh," commented Steven, unable to hide his disbelief. "Sure."

"Look," Heidi continued, touching Steven's arm to get a sense of his tension. "If the existence of vampires isn't hard enough to believe, you may find this even more difficult: not all of us feed on humans."

Steven politely pulled his arm away from the woman. He then asked, "What do they feed on?"

"Usually big game animals."

When Steven failed to respond, Jane pursed her lips in frustration. "Don't tell me you're one of those who value animals more than humans." When the man failed to respond, Jane tried to use her gift of inflicting pain, which again had no effect on the man. She rose from the pew and began to walk away, speaking in Italian, "I'm done. I'm returning to the car. You can talk to him."

Heidi watched as Jane stormed out the back of the church, the courtyard now partially in shadow. The quasi tour guide then stood and began donning her robe. "We've decided to give you a few more days to consider our offer. You have options. Perhaps we can find other sources of bloo—, sustenance for you. Maybe we could arrange something with a butcher." Heidi's voice had begun to betray her irritation. "Just don't do something stupid over the next few days. Find a nice hotel, sleep, and try to enjoy yourself as you think about what we have shared."

Steven continued to stare blankly at the altar.

Drawing her robe close, Heidi proceeded towards the back of the church.

Steven glanced over his shoulder to ask, "Can I have my passport?"

"What do you think?" replied the woman passing through the open set of double doors.

 **...**

With Jane in the passenger seat, Heidi drove towards their coven in silence. Distracted by the current events, she drove her expensive European sports car too fast until she predictably drew the attention of the police. And like all the encounters before, she used her gift of persuasion to make the police completely forget the infraction. However, by using her charms on the latest police officer, she found the easiness by which the officer returned to his motorcycle annoying and remained parked at the side of the road well after the police officer merged back into traffic.

Jane tapped her arm. "The view is nice, but you can drive now."

"Is this man's immunity to our gifts the same as Bella Swan's?"

"Her surname is now Cullen."

"Is that so?" snapped Heidi, "Is that with one 'L' or two? I don't care!"

Jane smiled as she gestured for Heidi to drive. "Probably. Maybe. Hard to say." As the car reentered traffic, Jane continued, "You sail through life for hundreds of years, never once having anyone resist your power, or worse, appear completely unaffected by your gift. Then that person shows up out of the blue and disrupts everything. Your first instinct is to destroy that person, to squash them like a bug. The distraction clouds your thoughts and begins to consume you."

Heidi accelerated the car into the fast lane, speeding once again. "That pretty much describes it."

"I learned my lesson with Miss Swan. This time, I am going to be flexible, and most importantly patient, whatever it takes to bring him to our side."

"Don't you mean Mrs. Cullen?" Smirking, Heidi continued, "Please tell me that you put your wedding invitation in your scrapbook."

Jane continued to stare coolly out the windshield. "I'm the leader of the Volturi Guard, and I don't allow anyone to mock me. I do not even take ridicule from my brother. Yet, you taught me at the risk that I might kill you. Why is that?"

Heidi's smile grew. "Because you love me."

Jane's face betrayed no emotion as Heidi laughed aloud. She simply turned to stare out the passenger window, hiding her smile, and said, "Just shut up and drive."

 **...**

The following evening, Heidi and Jane reported to the three masters in throne room. The Volturi leaders could easily read the expressions of their prized guards, and from his throne, Aro lifted a finger, inviting the two women to speak.

Jane bowed in respect. "Masters, things are progressing well. We spoke to the young man once again to remind him of our offer. We reminded him of his only alternative and the punishment if he should try to expose us."

Caius moaned his displeasure. "How can you say this is progress? You should have turned him immediately. One night was plenty of time for him to decide."

Jane bit her lip, turning her eyes down.

"Now now, brother," began Aro. "If our Jane thinks this lad is worth the effort, I say we give her time. Where was he?"

Sensing Jane's temperament, Heidi stepped forward. "A few miles north east of here, Master. He was seeking sanctuary in a church when we spoke to him." Sensing the master's amusement to the news, Heidi added, "Our human attendants who followed him tell us that he was trying to get to the Vatican. He got on the wrong bus and ended up going in the opposite direction. He didn't realize his mistake until nearly sundown, so he took refuge in the first church he could find."

Caius frowned more than usual. "How wonderful. He'll make quite the weapon indeed. And what could he be good for? A simple shield like the Cullen girl?"

Jane broke her silence. "Sometimes the best office is a good defense."

Caius's face hardened. "We are Volturi; we don't cower."

"Things are changing, Master, and not just in our world. We must continue to evolve with all the changes."

Aro raised his hand to silence the room. After a brief pause, he asked Jane, "Could you not just change him and proceed to study his gift. If anything, this could give us a better understanding of the Cullen girl."

"Master, we could learn more about the _how_ of his ability, but I doubt we could ever figure out the _why_. Abilities can never be dissected or passed on. We need him on our side, as a Volturi.

Aro turned to his colleagues and said, "A special tool for our toolbox."

"Perhaps," replied Caius as he leaned back against his throne. "Where did he go after you last spoke to him?"

Jane hesitated briefly at this anticipated question. "Our spies have informed us that he has just arrived in England."

The stoic Marcus shifted in his chair as Caius huffed with displeasure, grousing, "What? Fleeing again is he?"

"He cannot get far without his passport, and we know that he has not contacted an embassy to acquire a new one."

"What's next?" asked Caius, "You cannot let him wander aimlessly around Europe. Heidi fished him. He won't be a _missing person_ if he's not missing. Someone will eventually _find_ him."

"We will talk to him again, Master."

"And if he refuses?"

"We give him back his passport and let him return home." Expecting a stiff reaction, Jane watched with suppressed amusement as the three masters sat up in their chairs. Having not warned her friend, Jane reveled in Heidi's surprised look before looking confidently up at three leaders. "I'm willing to stake my life on this venture. Master Aro, you sensed my and my brother's worth those centuries ago. I am standing here now with the same intuition for this man."

No one moved, each master silently contemplating their own worries and concerns.

At the risk of further upsetting the masters, Jane added, "And if I learned anything from our former member, Carlisle Cullen, patience and kindness can sometimes be the most powerful tools one can use."

Brimming with curiosity, Aro asked Jane, "You've clearly thought this through, my child. What happens after the lad returns to his home in...?"

"America, Master. When he returns to the new world, we'll send an emissary to keep an eye on him, occasionally making contact to remind him of his choices. I suggest we give this man one year to decide, which should be enough time to earn his trust and favor."

"A whole year?" questioned Caius. "Seems excessive."

"Perhaps, Master. But the world is changing at an accelerated pace. It has also turned many into non-believers, making science their religion. This American thinks he is destined to die, whether or not he actually makes a choice. I suggest we let the man progress through his stages of grief. I suspect he'll be more reasonable on the other end of this spectrum, where belief often returns."

"I see," Aro said with a faint smile. "And who will be this emissary? You are needed here."

Jane nodded to the other woman in the room. "Her."

Heidi's eyes widened as she exclaimed, "Me?"

Unable to hide her smugness, Jane said, "You have the best chance of bringing him in."

"You know my persuasion doesn't work on him." Heidi next pleaded to the masters, "I have my responsibilities here."

When all eyes turned to Jane, the extraordinary plan her ultimate responsibly, she said to Aro, "Read her, Master. It will become clear."

Heidi glared at her friend. "Jane, what are you playing at? I told you I won't be able to convince this human."

Rising swiftly from his chair, Aro glided down the steps towards Heidi, who presented her hand to her master without hesitation. With a gentleman's touch, Aro held Heidi's hand as his tactile telepathy immediately began transferring all her thoughts and memories to him. Within seconds, the man knew why Jane's plan would not fail. He released Heidi's hand and turned to his brothers. "She's obsessed with the human."

"No, I'm not," exclaimed Heidi. When Aro eyed her with his knowing smile, she bowed her head, hesitantly accepting the truth. "Master, no human has ever said no to me. It's...puzzling."

Aro slowly began climbing the steps to his throne. "Ah yes, and this man is a puzzle you must solve."

With a frustrated huff, Heidi asked, "What am I to do, Master?"

"Have you tried saying please? Maybe smile at him." Aro sat onto his throne, amused with the situation. "If he is immune to those of us with a gift, then perhaps this lad could be an invaluable weapon for us. And if Jane thinks we need to go to extreme efforts, then we will, or at least, Heidi my dear, you will."

"My duties?" suggested Heidi.

"Other's can fill in," retorted Caius. "You can still fish for the lost souls online. Chelsea can collect them from the hotels."

Heidi's brow furled as she failed to reign in her growing frustration. "That is _if_ I have access to the internet."

Caius's gaze narrowed as he asked, "Why would you not?"

"Because," began Heidi with a hint of dread, "he lives in northern Minnesota."

Knowing Heidi's preference to the Mediterranean nights, Aro guffawed. "The New World's Siberia!"

Breaking his long silence, Marcus returned the conversation to a more somber tone. "There are native people in that part world. There could be shapeshifters."

Heidi jumped at the chance of avoiding the long, arduous task of babysitting a human. "That's right, Master. It could be extremely dangerous. I should stay here."

Aro turned to Jane as he weighed the dangers. "Jane, darling, you will accompany Heidi for the first two weeks. You will scout the area, find the largest coven in the region, and learn of the known dangers from them. If it turns out that it is just too dangerous, you eliminate the young man and return. Do you understand?"

Jane answered for herself and her friend. "Yes, Master. We understand."

The finality of the meeting instinctively became apparent to the women—as was accustom when the masters finished speaking. Without direction, the two women bowed and exited the underground throne room, returning to the elevator.

Jane pressed the call button for the elevator. "Where exactly in Northern Minnesota?"

Heidi continued to glare at her friend. "Moorhead, just across the river from Fargo, North Dakota."

"Lovely."

Heidi sighed in defeat. "Might as well be the north pole."

"Either of those towns should provide ample internet for your work. They both have decent populations."

"Perhaps," replied Heidi. "It doesn't matter; I was just trying to weasel myself out of _your_ assignment. Oh, and I can save you some time in regard to scouting the area. We won't have to worry about shapeshifters. Moorhead is on the prairie, a couple hours from the forest line."

Jane entered the elevator behind her friend. "That should make our initial task easier."

Ignoring her friend, Heidi pressed her lips tight together before snarling through gritted teeth, "I hate you."

Pleased at how her planned had unfolded, Jane could only smile in response.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Appearing asleep, Jane sat motionless as she rode in the back of the tinted European sedan. She had seen these same streets when horses were the only mode of transportation. She had seen the exuberant and grand villas back at the time the bicycle had been invented. She could even remember when the first stones were laid for many of the churches. She did not have to look out the window to admire their grandeur. She had been there since the beginning; she had more pressing things on her mind this day.

Since she appeared barely old enough to drive—and since this part of Italy posed its own risks that could lead to discovery—Jane had asked someone else to chauffer her.

With Heidi on assignment, the large and foreboding Felix drove the sedan in silence. Also not one for conversation, he happily kept his thoughts to himself as he listened to classical music—trivial conversation something of a faux pas for those who have lived long enough.

Felix had been a Volturi guard for nearly as long as Jane, give or take a couple hundred years, and this weathered vampire trusted her leadership and wisdom emphatically. He also knew when something troubled her. He pulled into the first vacant parking spot located under the shadow of the church steeple. Without looking back, he simply asked, "Close enough?"

"Yes," replied Jane as she pulled her hood over her blonde hair. She exited the sedan and proceeded towards the church. With her robe covering her exposed skin, she did not worry as she passed through a few remaining beams of sunlight—an act few knew to be her most cherished wish: to walk without reserve in the daylight.

Jane entered the church and proceeded directly for the confessional. Arriving near the end of the allotted time for confessions, she stood silently, surveying the church for other signs of life, not wanting to be disturbed during her mission. She listened to the soft flicker of about a dozen prayer candles located on the other side of the room, their dancing flames radiating loudly in her ears. She inhaled deeply, sensing that the only foul human scent to be the priest's emanating from the confessional.

She entered the confessional and drew the curtain closed. She knew the ritual, she knew with what words to begin a confession—in dozens of languages. Jane chose to speak in Latin, the way priests spoke when she first became a vampire 1200 years ago. "Bless me, Father, for I have _sinned_. My last confession was twelve centuries ago."

The priest did not respond immediately. His rising heartbeat confirmed to Jane that he had understood the archaic language. He swallowed hard before asking in the same Latin, "If you would like me to recite a passage, it will have to be in Italian."

"No need for formalities, Father. But can we continue in Latin?"

"Of course, I never lost my conversation skills."

The smell of fear began to intoxicate Jane. The scent always reminding her of the great power bestowed to her. Despite her selfish indulgence, she reminded herself to the reason why she had come here. "Father, please fear me not. I promise you know harm."

The old man's heart continued to race.

"Without seeing me," continued Jane, "you know... _what_ I am, don't you?"

"I believe so; only a few of us priests remain who remember the old language and its proper dialect."

"Say it then."

"Lamia."

Jane slide back the privacy shield to reveal the checked divider. "I haven't heard that term in a while."

The priest leaned close to the divider to peer through one of the squares. When he saw that the fluent Latin had come from a teenager, he recoiled.

A smile spread across Jane's face, one of pride. "You know who I am."

"Yes. It is said that only two of your kind has ever been permitted to exist in such a youthful state. All others are forbidden and are hunted down to be destroyed. You must be Jane."

"You do sound certain."

"It's not difficult if you accept your kind's existence," replied the old priest. "Your voice tells me more than your appearance ever would."

"So it seems. I was here yesterday with a friend. I didn't say much then."

The priest combed his thoughts. "Your friend must be gifted if I cannot remember our encounter. Can I assume that this friend has the gift of erasure, or perhaps it was persuasion?"

"Persuasion was used," answered Jane. "How do you know that it wasn't I who used persuasion on you?"

"No. Your gift is known to all of us."

"What is my gift?"

After a brief pause, the priest spoke, "To remind others of their mortality."

Jane almost smiled. "That's an interesting way of putting it."

"Bluntly, your gift is pain. We few who have been watching from the sidelines know of your _gift,_ and that of your twin brother's: his being the ability to mask people's senses. Your long history has not gone unnoticed."

"I'm flattered," said Jane. "Father, have you met any of us before?"

"Yes. When I was a young priest."

"Who."

The old man paused. When he spoke, his voice betrayed his nervousness, "I cannot say. My duty commands it."

"So, it was in a church, perhaps this one?"

The man remained silent, his pulse increasing.

Jane sensed his growing worry. "Don't worry, Father. I will not use my gift on you. Nor will I ask you to break your oath."

"Thank you."

"So few people keep their oaths these days." Jane watched the shadow on the other side of the divider nod subconsciously in agreement. "Father, do you think the loss of faith correlates to the number of people who stopped fearing God?"

"That has something to do with it. Not having their prayers answered, I suspect, is the main reason."

"But they...they _never_ had their prayers answered, Father."

"They are not God's to answer to. It is up to each of us to seek out the answer. To recognize the prayer itself is God's gift."

Jane found the nontraditional spiritual answer intriguing—especially from a man of the cloth. "And here I was expecting quoted scriptures. Father, you surprise me."

"I've never been much for quoting. When speaking to those who seek solace, I find it more beneficial to be direct and plain spoken."

Jane fell unexpectedly silent.

The priest peered through the divider at the small, still form of a woman and asked, "Would you like to make a confession?"

"Do I deserve one, Father?"

"Of course you do. We are all God's children."

Jane's brow knitted as she stared aimlessly at the privacy curtain. "I used to be. Now I'm vampire. Some think we are spawns of Satan."

"I don't," said the priest. "Your body may have evolved, but you are still who you were meant to be. It's all part of God's plan.

"And what is God's reasoning for my kind?"

"I don't know," replied the priest. "Maybe we are not meant to know; there would be no reason to finish a story if we knew how the book ended. There would be no reason to seek out those adventures. The mystery gives life its zest; wouldn't you agree?"

Though the priest's antidote made her smile, Jane did not rush to respond.

"What's troubling you, my child?"

"I kill people. I have killed more than I can count over the centuries. My coven does not discriminate, though we try to avoid children. We choose to stay unseen, letting the humans think they rule this planet. We avoid sunlight to remain undiscovered. It's in the shadows we live, where we rule. And to be honest, I've never felt guilty for what I've done."

"Why should you?" said the Priest.

Jane peered through the divider. "Father?"

"Am I being too honest? You were put on this planet for a reason. Perhaps it is to keep the human race in check; perhaps it is to remind people of their mortality. I do not question God's will. If you have to eat, that is what you do. Do you ever kill for malice?"

"Sometimes. When I first became vampire, I killed out of vengeance. The villagers did not trust twin siblings, so whenever something bad happened in the village, they blamed us. They eventually came for my brother and me. The tied us to stakes and set us ablaze. I burned a little before my master saved me. After I ascended into vampire form, I vowed to make everyone one of those villagers feel the same pain I felt."

"Did you?" asked the priest.

"Yes, Father. They all experienced what my brother and I had felt in those flames. Does that make me evil?"

"No," replied the priest. "It proves that there is still human in you. You may have been turned, but you were still a scorned child, not the wise woman sharing this confessional with me today."

Jane listed to the man's heart, noticing how it had returned to a normal pulse. She could sense that his fear had lifted. "Are you sure you're a priest?"

The man chuckled. "The priesthood was not my first choice. I considered a military career for a while; however, destiny led me here."

"Was that destiny a broken heart?" asked Jane.

"No," replied the Priest. "My broken heart came later. My destiny came with the realization that I had more of an interest in words than guns. Words can be more powerful than guns if one knows how to use them."

"True, but guns are what usually follow after those words are spoken."

"Not always."

"Not always," repeated Jane in agreement, "but humans, more often than not, turn to violence."

"True," said the priest. "And the victors may paint a rosy picture of themselves in the history books, but those few of us who know or understand the truth understand humans for what they really are, fodder for tyrants and the elite. Jane, do vampires rise above this?"

The centuries-old vampire did not need time to contemplate her answer. She said in a flat tone, "No, I'm afraid not." When the old man failed to continue the topic, Jane asked, "Tell me, Father, what is your name?"

"Julien Flaubert."

"Julien, believe me when I say this: it has been an absolute pleasure meeting you."

 **...**

With her hood pulled back, and her robe hanging loosely around her shoulders, Jane stared from the rooftop at the bustling Italian nightlife. With dawn a few hours away, the elevator doors began to open behind her. She turned, bowing to Marcus as he exited, whom she sensed well before the elevator car had arrived to the roof.

Marcus nodded to his trusted guard. He moved next to his disciple and joined her in gazing over the city. "Same as it has ever been?"

"Yes, Master."

"Are you going hunting?"

"No, Master."

Marcus glanced at Jane from the corner of his eye. "What brings you to the roof?"

Jane's eyes began to follow a random car on a distant road, its various noises and lights polluting the stillness of the night, a time that used to be tranquil before their invention. She seemed to snarl at the city below when she finally replied with a question, "Why don't we rule them?"

"What makes you think that we don't?"

Jane turned to her master. "I know we control the most powerful people in the world in one way or another, but why don't we _rule...them_?" Jane waved her arm dismissively at the city. "Out in the open. We should be walking in the daylight with them bowing at our feet. When did we choose this path of secrecy?"

Marcus clasped his hands behind his back as he stared out over the city. "Our path was chosen well before my birth. What we do know sounds more like folklore than history, albeit this is before much of recorded history.

"Man and vampire coexisted, though not all that peacefully. Legend tells of the first holy men who desired to rule the world. To ascend to the top, they used their religion to set them apart, which in turn led to a following. These holy men demonized us, in fact denouncing anyone different from themselves. This included shapeshifters, alchemists, oracles, the dwellers of the forests, and any god not aligned to their own. It is told that these holy men used an enchantment that limited our power, weakening our connection with the earth. Though their enchantment did not defeat us, a stalemate came to be. We and the other non-humans faded into the shadows as the human population exploded and evolved."

Jane huffed with growing vexation through her nose. "Evolve?"

"Their technology. I agree with you that they, as a species, have not evolved all that much during my 3000 years. In fact, I'd say they have recently declined."

"How did they weaken us?" asked Jane.

"We do not know. This happened well before Aro, Caius, and I came to be. We do not know how much stronger we could be, perhaps none at all. The details of the enchantment forever remained a secret. Those few who remembered that time before the spell have vanished. Few even remember that we used to share this world with fairies."

"Fairies? Really?" asked Jane. "With little wings and all?"

"These fairies were more like us, appearing mostly human, strong and fast, cunning."

"Did they feed on blood?"

"No. They lived off the land: berries and nuts mostly. They didn't fare well with the humans either, or us as some have claimed."

"What happened to them?"

Marcus shrugged. "Rumor has it that they disappeared to a different astral plain when the holy men unleased their enchantment." Marcus smiled at a long lost memory.

"What, Master?"

"Ledged says that you should never call a fairy a fairy. They don't like the moniker."

Jane smiled. "Okay. I'll try to remember that the next time I see one."

Marcus nodded—his simple form of laughter after three exhaustive centuries of living.

Jane turned her back to the city as her tone became more serious. "Master, we are on a precipice now, something more dangerous than a holy man's enchantment. It's a miracle that a rogue wildling vampire has not exposed us all to the humans. When it happens, which it will someday, the humans will use their newly designed weapons of war and other forms of technology to hunt down every last of us. We may control the leaders of this world through corruption, but we cannot control the internet and mass hysteria. The human animal cannot be reasoned with when frightened in whole. What do we do if our secret gets out?"

"Worst case scenario, we hide. There are places on this planet where they will never find us."

"We cannot hide forever," retorted Jane with growing frustration.

"We don't expect to. Humans are doomed to self annihilate. It is in their nature. When they do, they will become feeble and forget us, as they did once before. We will come out of hiding and return to the shadows, from which we will govern their remnants of society. Civilizations come and go, many forever lost to history. When I was young—well before Plato's time—the orators said that Atlantis would rule the world for millennia with their advance technology. Then disaster struck, and now they are nothing more of a fairy tale, with many believing that they were nothing more than advance sailors.

Jane's head tilted to the side as she eyed her master. "It was never called Atlantis, what was its true name?"

Marcus smiled. "See, even you have forgotten, as did the world, as humans always have, as they always will."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Before a large tropical fish tank, the center point of the plainly decorated hotel lobby, Steven settled down into a soft lounge chair. He had noticed the well-maintained tank when he checked in earlier that day, and after a long and much needed nap, he found his appetite had finally returned. After eating a light dinner, the self-described loner planted himself before the fish tank and took unusual solace with being surrounded by other people, strangers who could bear witness if anything should happen.

He knew fish well enough—better than his understanding of people—and often looked back fondly at the time when he worked in a pet store during his college years. He often admired the lives of these tiny creatures, even their environment. Moreover, the difficult task of cleaning the two dozen fish tanks never bothered him. In some ways, he felt personally obligated to watch over their tiny lives—their souls if they should be so burdened. Though proper pet stores only stock fish from domesticated fish farms and not from the wild, Steven felt guilty none the less that these his fish never experienced their natural habit; therefore, he took it upon himself to make their lives comfortable, no matter how trivial or small.

Staring into the fish tank, Steven began to wonder if he had gotten used to the dread of his recent discovery or if the emotional effect had lessened. The visit in the church by the two women did heighten his already acute stress levels, but something changed during his long train ride across Europe, lifting somewhat just before he passed through the Chunnel. With no particular place to go, he eventually debarked in the heart of England. Perhaps, the long nap was all that he needed after such grave news. For the moment, he could sit and breathe as he enjoyed the fish, all the while contemplating his options: that he was going mad, that there was such a thing as vampires, and for the first time, to fantasize what it would be like to be forever young and strong—to kill.

Steven watched with amusement as one of the larger fish scooped a rock into its mouth and immediately spat it out. This fish ritual of either scraping algae from the rocks or trying to impress a mate always amazed him with the presumed tedium. Then again, fish had to eat; fish had to mate, so their tedium was no worse than working as a billing clerk in a hospital—a job potentially even less impressive to a mate than spitting rocks.

Staring more intently into the tank, Steven began to study the filtration system used, the types of live plants, even the tank lighting. His eyes drifted over the central structure of large rocks when he took notice of a pair of eyes staring back at him, familiar feminine human eyes. His heart may have skipped, but it did not race.

From the other side of the aquarium, Heidi slowly rose from her chair. She strolled around into plain view to reveal a long flowing green dress that accented her lustrous long mahogany hair. She carried a matching clutch purse in one hand, and unlike prior introductions, she did not flash a large disingenuous smile. She simply paused at the corner of the fish tank before proceeding towards a matching lounge chair next to Steven.

Preparing to sit, Heidi stopped herself and straightened. "Apologies. Is this seat taken?"

With a look of confusion, Steven glanced up at her and shrugged. "You don't have to ask. You can do anything you like, sit, stand...kill me."

Biting her lip, Heidi slowly seated herself, crossing her legs at the ankles in a sophisticated manner. "You're angry, I get it, but believe me when I say...and this may be the first time I've ever said this to a human, I _do not want_ to kill you."

Feeling the return of his dread, Steven only managed an insolent, "Uh huh."

Heidi glance briefly at the fish and then quietly asked, "Have you decided yet?"

"I don't want to be like you. Even if I'm simply going mad, hallucinating this whole nightmare of a vacation, I'd rather stay insane than become one of you."

"Okay," said Heidi without a hint of emotion.

"And if this isn't some mad hallucination," continued Steven, "I then hope you have the decency to kill me in my sleep, to not let me suffer."

Heidi said nothing.

"Did those other tourist suffer?" asked Steven. "Did they see it coming?"

Sitting back against her chair, Heidi answered the question with alarming brashness. "It happens so fast that they don't have much time to be afraid."

Steven timidly looked away.

"Besides, Aro thinks that fear can spoil the..." Realizing her indulgence, Heidi diverted her gaze to the fish tank.

Feeling a nauseous warmth wash over him, Steven leaned forward in his chair, focusing on the aquatic display. He gestured to the tank and said, "I'd rather be a dimwitted fish than become a killer."

"Well," began Heidi as she returned her attention to Steven, "there are always bigger fish, and those fish gladly feed on the others."

"Ya, but that's natural."

"I'm natural," retorted Heidi who appeared insulted.

"No, you're not."

"Yes... _I_... _am_." Heidi's eyes narrowed as she took notice of the number of hotel guests that had begun to stare, mostly at her—which was not unusual. She lowered her voice as she leaned towards Steven. "Not knowing of our existence doesn't make us unnatural. Don't blame me if your virtual fish tank of an existence has left you isolated and ignorant. It's not my fault that your life isn't as safe as you once thought."

Steven pondered her argument. If he was not going mad, the discovery of vampires was some sort of an awakening. He padded his pockets until he felt the coin that had been bent with ease by the woman's slender fingers. He pulled out the coin and began turning it over with one hand.

"Do you want me to straighten it?" asked Heidi.

"No. It helps me. It reminds me that this nightmare is real." Squeezing the bent coin in his hand, he continued, "I was debating on seeing my doctor, if I ever get home that is. I was going to ask for a brain scan."

"You'd be simply wasting your money. You're in perfect health."

Steven eyed the aloof vampire sitting next to him. "I take it that you only dine on the finest..." Letting the accusation hang, Steven returned his gaze to the aquarium. "Too bad I wasn't born a fish."

"Your life would have been a short one." With pursed lips, Heidi smiled, adding, "I suspect that a simple guppy could devourer you."

Steven's cheeks began to burn. "Perhaps, but my life would have been a complete one."

In lieu of cursing, Heidi gave a loud sigh to signal her annoyance.

"What?" asked Steven.

"Humans. Your lot incessantly needs to complain."

Thinking of a different viewpoint, Steven straightened in his chair and posed the question to his unwanted guest. "If you had to choose between death and becoming human, which would you choo—"

"Death," Heidi replied swiftly. "I'd choose death. Once you have been elevated to this status, you never look back. Humans are quite disposable creatures, more so when you factor in their ignorance of the world, their lying, and their unnecessary wars."

"Are you saying that vam...you're _people_ don't lie or fight?"

"My coven tries to keep the peace and social structure of our... _people_. There hasn't been a major conflict between the major covens in quite a while. I can proudly say that a potential conflict was recently resolved peacefully."

"So you do fight among yourselves?"

"There are disturbances between us, yes."

Steven eyed the woman. "You know, you just bent the truth. That's akin to lying."

"No I didn't." Heidi pressed her lips tight. "It's a matter of perspective. I never lie."

Sensing a defensive tone, Steven asked, "When was this recent potential conflict?"

"A little over a year ago."

"And what was it about?"

With jaw clenched, Heidi took her time answering. "We were informed that a coven had a child that was...like us, which is prohibited due to their instability and given potential to reveal our existence through their stunted growth. It turned out to be not true. It was a simple misunderstanding."

Steven carefully parsed his words. "So, someone lied. One of you?"

With a chilling stare, Heidi answered, "Yes. And since this vampire almost started a war, that lie forfeited her life. Sometimes we lie. Are you satisfied?"

"I didn't mean to offend you." Steven sat back in his chair, his strained nerves begging to surface as faint tremors in his hands. "I'm still absorbing the shock. I just want to know more."

"Well, we tend not to lie. I myself hate lying. It's central to all things ugly in this world."

Recalling the tourists who had their lives taken back in Italy, Steven took a deep, calming breath. "What about the vacation package that lured all of us to Europe? It was not quite the all expense paid vacation you promised."

"Technically, it was all expense paid vacation. We make sure that everyone has one full day to enjoy themselves, a day to enjoy as they please."

"Now you sound like a politician," Steven said softly, commenting more to himself. "In a way, this makes you worse than human." Immediately regretting his words, Steven glanced over at the woman. Seeing her displeased expression, he shifted in his chair as his intestines began to tighten.

"I didn't come here to argue with you," snapped Heidi in a whisper. "In fact, I didn't come here to threaten or kill you. I'm here to inform you that we would still like you to join our coven. To show our sincerity, our leaders have agreed to give you one year from today to decide. If you say yes to joining us, you will be well taken care of as a member of our family, you will not have to live in fear ever again, you will be in want of nothing, and you will remain free. If you choose no, then you will forfeit your life. If you do not want to know of your demise, we are even willing to make it quick and painless. _But..._ if you tell anyone about us, we will go to whatever mental ward they lock you in, remove you from the facility in the middle of the night, and introduce you to a new kind of eternity, one worse than death. Don't forget that this warning includes those you expose us to; I don't have to say what will happen to them; do I?" Heidi reclined in her chair, her fingertips digging into the armrests. "Do you understand your options?"

Steven nodded, sighing quietly with news of the one-year reprieve. Normally timid, Steven's conviction forced him to speak his mind. "I will not talk, but I will never kill. This is all I will promise you. Thank you for the one year. Many cancer patients aren't so lucky."

Heidi slowly rose from her chair, the muscles in her face taunt. She calmly reached into her clutch purse and produced Steven's passport. She handed the small blue book to him and said, "Have a pleasant flight."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Heidi pulled herself up onto the rickety fire escape and climbed effortlessly until she reached the top of the century-old Italian building. With a smooth couple of leaps, she skipped from one building ledge to another and soon found herself on the roof where a small figure on the far side awaited her. Heidi moved swiftly across the rooftop and said as she approached, "I just got your message. Your timing is impeccable."

Jane stood motionless, not needing to turn her eyes away from the Italian city below. "I figured you'd be up for a hunt."

"More than you could imagine," replied the taller woman as she brushed any potential dust from her black slacks. Heidi next pulled on her dark grey blouse, one cut to reveal ample cleavage. "I wish you had come with me to England. I nearly ripped that man's head off. You are correct about his nature. He's becoming more resistant to the idea of becoming one of us."

Jane turned her head to study Heidi's attire, nodding approvingly as she returned her gaze to the large Mediterranean harbor below.

Joining in the gaze across the harbor, Heidi asked, "What do we have tonight?"

"War ships. They docked today for refueling."

"What nationality?"

"American," replied Jane

Heidi smiled. "Perfect. I hope you don't mind, but I'm in the mood for something more sporting."

Jane gnawed her lip as she considered her friend's request, for she too felt the stress from their recent endeavors with the male tourist. Jane suggested, "Special forces?"

"Sounds good. Do think we'll find any?"

Jane turned to the moonlit horizon of the Mediterranean Sea. "The other ships are out past the curvature of the earth; we probably won't see them anytime soon, but I know they have an aircraft carrier in their fleet. I've spotted their recon planes. They no doubt have some special forces in this armada. I'm sure we'll find them down by the artisan market."

"At this point," began Heidi in an eager tone, "I'll take whatever we can find."

Jane stepped to the ledge. "The same goes for me, but it is more fun to see the surprised looks from tiny, overconfident minds."

"I do enjoy beating the arrogance off their smug faces. There is something special that comes with that sudden fear. It's intoxicating."

When Heidi stepped onto the ledge, Jane grabbed her arm to stop her. "Only two. Remember, we hunted here just a couple months ago."

"But those were Chinese merchant sailors."

"Yes, but we left those bodies to be found."

Heidi gazed up into the night sky, remembering. "Ah, that's right."

Whatever we feed on tonight, we'll have to dispose of properly.

"I don't care; just give me something big and muscular to wail on."

"We should hunt on the south side, away from the strip clubs. The thugs who don't drown their sorrows in alcohol and whores are the most dangerous, the most fun."

"Only dangerous to other humans," countered Heidi. "Not to us."

Jane retained her grip on her friend. "Yes, but they are the type that more often raise concerns when they go missing."

Patting her friend's hand in reassurance, Heidi's smile betrayed a hunter's snarl. "Isn't that why we're meticulous? It's part of the hunt. It wouldn't be fun if it was easy."

"I know. I'm just reminding you to keep your emotions in check until we have isolated our targets. You seem distracted with our new friend." Seeing her friend's smile fade, Jane added, "I don't want you tearing off any limbs until we get them secluded. Okay?"

"I'll be careful. Besides, that insignificant tourist does not distract me. He's just annoying. It has been a long time since I had to be patient with a human."

"Well, we often want what we can't have," said Jane with a mocking smile.

"That not funny."

"You like him."

Heidi stepped back, dropping back onto the roof. She twisted her heals into the painted concrete as she spoke. "No. He's a hillbilly. Did you notice his clothing?"

"I think you mean redneck." Jane stepped back from the ledge, joining her friend on the rooftop. "You should get the nomenclature correct if you're going to live in that part of the world for the next few months. Perhaps you should start practicing the accent."

"I think hillbilly and redneck are the same thing."

"Hillbillies are southern. Rednecks are northern."

"No," chided Heidi before reconsidering the idea. "Well, maybe a hundred years ago, but those American terms are interchangeable now."

Having always preferred British English, Jane tried to parse her American vocabulary from memory. "Are you sure? I think they both originated in the south."

"Does it matter? It's used everywhere now. I see insults used everywhere on the internet when I'm fishing for tourist in that part of the world. You should go online with me some time. Their true human nature is on display in all its ugliness."

Jane snarled at the thought. "I'll pass. Experiencing the internet the one time was enough. All it does is spread bad news more quickly. Everyone is whining or complaining."

"They're human; that's what they are programmed to do."

"Again, pass." Jane turned to her friend, anticipating a reaffirming look to her earlier words of caution.

"I'll be careful with our stray tourist. I just hope you're correct about his ability."

"Me too." Jane began walking towards the rooftop ledge, her friend following close behind.

"Do you remember," began Heidi, "what it was like hunting here in the harbor after the war: so many warships and no technology. We never had to worry about being discovered or about being overly careful with bodies."

Recalling that special time, Jane smiled. "Remember when we surprised that crew of fifty British sailors."

Heidi nodded. "I remember how much fun Felix had disposing of the ship. He's lucky he didn't blow off his head on that naval mine."

"Aro wasn't happy. I remember that."

Heidi sighed as she recalled the chaos and excitement of the last global war. Hearing Aro's name gave her other concerns. "How is Aro, in regard to our little plan?"

"I spoke to him again and he still approves. I will keep him updated regularly, as you will keep me updated. I think Aro is as curious to learn of the lad's gift as we are."

"Like _you_ are," countered Heidi. "I would rather not go through all this trouble."

"Do you deny that you're not just a bit curious about his gift?"

Heidi kept her eyes diverted, gazing out at the harbor. "I still say we should just change him."

"And risk him running to some other coven, or worse, to the Cullen's?"

Eyeing her friend, Heidi said in an accusatory tone, "You just want to beat Bella. You've never lost a fight, and now you're obsessed on beating her?"

Jane's eyes narrowed as she considered for a moment the use of her gift on her friend— _just a little pain,_ she thought. Wrinkling her nose, she let go of her anger and countered, "You're no different than me."

"How so?"

"You've never _not_ had a man heed to your beckon call. Now that one has, you're obsessed with him. You hate it that you don't have him wrapped around your little finger."

"Not likely. Our _friend_ [with air quotes] probably has never worn a tie in his life, and I'm including the tacky clip on variety. He's feral."

"You can fix him," said Jane with a snide mile.

"Funny. You know I tried to fix my last boyfriend and how that turned out."

"That wasn't fixing, that was persuasion. And not all vampires excel in intellect."

"Well, it was the best I could do at the time; I had no choice."

Jane found her hands clutched into fists. She stretched out her fingers, exclaiming, "Why are we fighting!"

"I don't know! But I haven't been this pissed off in years."

"Well," began Jane as she hopped onto ledge, "maybe we should go and kill something."

"My thoughts exactly," said Heidi as she followed her friend onto the ledge, dropping silently into the city shadows below.

 **...**

Underground in a forgotten war bunker, where the screams of two men had echoed off graffiti covered walls to deaf ears, Jane and Heidi calmly sat in the aftermath on the dusty concrete floor, each leaning calmly against the wall.

The decaying remnant of the Cold War served well for their stress relieving hunting sessions, allowing these two metaphorical cats to play with their mice. The actual room they commonly used to subdue their prey had at one time functioned as a meeting room, perhaps the office for some head of state. Now it served as a battleground for miscreants lured into a vampire trap.

Two military issued penlights lay on the floor, their beams shining brightly off the concrete walls, the surprisingly powerful light reflecting up to the high ceiling. In the beam of one light, two muscular males with short-cropped haircuts lay in a heap, drained of blood.

Not that Heidi and Jane needed light, but like traditional hunters, these two female vampires saw their outings as sport. Therefore, their prey needed to see; otherwise, they would be running into walls like headless chickens, which would spoil the fun. And if their prey had no lights of their own, the two women had a growing stash of lights hidden at the entrance from which a degenerate could choose, all in the name of fairness.

The two contented women reflected over their easy conquest, blood still smeared on their faces.

"I saw what you did," said Jane with a knowing smile. "How did it feel?"

Heidi returned the smile. "You mean when I tossed mine up into the ceiling?"

"No. I mean what you did _not_ do."

"Not using my gift of persuasion?" asked Heidi in a feign attempt of playing coy.

"Yes," replied Jane. "You intentionally lured those two down here using only your feminine charms. Did it give you what you needed?"

Heidi appeared more sullen than proud. "It did, but only one was following me. The truly debauched one could not wait to get his hands on you."

"Okay, but did your pig in human clothing replace the tourist that got away?"

Heidi faintly shrugged.

"Believe me," said Jane. "I know how you feel. Not being able to drop that American woman to her knees still irks me."

"I now understand your frustration." After a long pause, Heidi gestured to the larger of the two corpses. "I didn't peg that one to be a crier."

"That's my fault. I shouldn't have pummeled his friend so violently. I couldn't pace my punches."

"Don't blame yourself." Heidi tapped her friend on the leg. "The recent events have gotten on our nerves."

"And now that you've rediscovered your natural charisma, maybe you'll be able to convince our tourist friend to join our coven before winter."

The thought of winter in Minnesota—not to mention the possible isolation from designer clothes and shoes, worse yet, art and culture—did not sit well with Heidi. She glared at her friend and said, "You had to spoil our wonderful evening; didn't you."

"Don't fret. You don't have to spend every day Minnesota. Take the occasional trip to New York."

"You know it's getting harder for us to travel."

"I'm sure Aro will allow you to lease a private jet, something small."

"He better," said Heidi before climbing to her feet. "I've never handled travelling outside Europe as well as you."

Jane followed her friend to her feet and began stepping slowly around the lifeless bodies. "I don't like traveling either, but we do what we must to survive." She reached down and collected the two smashed smartphones from the floor of the bunker, phones Heidi had destroyed just before Jane had begun to taunt their prey into revealing their dark natures.

Revealing the evil that resides in a human's heart was surprisingly easy for these women. It began with the smashing of the smartphones, this standard offense often brought out their prey's anger—often rage since the internet had become just another drug, another addiction. The frail human mind craved the disillusioned attention received from social networks. This virtual drug pulled them in multiple directions: to be liked, the need to share trifle comments, to be able to spew their anger, their true ugliness exposed to all free of consequence, or so they thought.

But the internet had also become an invaluable tool for Heidi in her hunt for lost souls, infinite sheep ready for slaughter as she discovered during the internet's early growth.

Jane held up the destroyed smartphones as she turned to her friend. "Do you think humans would ever choose these over their children?"

"They have. I've seen stories online when fishing."

Jane let the phones dangle loosely in her hands as her arms lowered to her side. "They may call us monsters, but these little boxes that they cling to for dear life are much worse. These _vampires_ drain them of their souls." Jane crushed the two phones in her bare hands, bits of glass and gadget falling from between her fingers. She shook the clinging remnants of phone from her impenetrable skin before asking, "What is our purpose in life, be it God or evolution, your choice?"

Heidi began to pace slowly around the bodies, more interested in the poor clothing choices than the bloodied flesh. "When I first ascended, I quickly came to believe that this world was created specifically for us, that humans were simply our source of sustenance. I try not to think past that. You?"

"The same," replied Jane, "but I'm now beginning to wonder if our purpose was to police the humans, to prevent them from getting out of control. The first masters had similar thoughts way back then."

"You think we should start policing humans?"

"Yes. The humans are becoming a plague; they are smothering the planet. I think we should be doing more."

"Isn't it too late? They've overpopulated. And they now have advanced weapons that could pose a threat to us."

"Perhaps. Their technology worries me more than their weapons. It has become too advanced and intrusive; it is beginning to interfere with our activities. Their desire to track everyone is only going to get worse, whether it be physically or through communications. Soon, ever street in Europe will be monitored by video cameras."

"You've discussed this with the masters?"

"Yes. Marcus says that the humans are at another tipping point. He thinks their tendency to self destruct will set things right."

"Like a nuclear holocaust?"

Jane shook her head. "I hope not. Do you want to feed off scrawny, radioactive survivors?"

"Yuk. God, no."

Jane's lips began to curl. "If society collapses under mushroom clouds, you might have to wait a 1000 years for new designer shoes."

Heidi froze, pointing a loaded stare at her friend. "That's nothing to joke about."

Jane turned her attention to the two corpses, eyeing them with contempt. "Something needs to be done; there is no doubt about it. Perhaps I should bring this up to all three masters in a formal discussion."

"I think you should," said Heidi. "But I think Marcus is right. They have always had their ups and downs. They are overdue for a major down turn."

"Way overdue."

Heidi slid her hands into her back pockets. "I've never liked the increased need for discretion. But like you said, we do what we must."

Jane kicked one of the corpses, her frustration returning. "Remember when you joined the Volturi? Do you remember how free we used to be?"

"Yes; of course."

The smaller vampire looked up at the ceiling—as if she could see the bustling city above—and said, "Well, I have no intention of hiding in the shadows forever."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

When left to her own thoughts, Jane preferred the underground sanctuary of her coven. However, the long trip up the mountain through vast swatches of forest soothed her nerves this evening, a needed respite from the recent events that had disturbed her tranquility.

Nearing the crest of the mountain, Jane stepped into a clearing and pulled back her hood, bathing her face in the moonlight. She immediately spotted the man standing oddly against a boulder, his lower torso pressed against the great rock while his upper body bent backward at a 45-degree angle, hovering above the bolder without support as he gazed upward into the night's sky. Jane always thought her master looked like a contorted toy doll left by a child when frozen in his stargazing position.

As Jane approached, Aro smiled warmly, his eyes never diverting from the universe. "Jane, darling, how are you this fine evening?"

"Good, Master." Finding the man's stargazing position a bit droll, she permitted herself to ask, "Master, why don't you lay on the ground to study the universe? It might look odd if someone should stumble upon you."

"No one has ever stumbled upon me up here. Moreover, I have no intentions on getting my clothes dirty. Letting my muscles lock into a granite like state is the most feasible way to enjoy the show above."

"You could simply tilt your head back, Master."

"Yes I could, but this feels more natural."

Rolling her eyes, Jane stood beside her superior and turned her attention up to the stars, albeit remaining upright. High on the mountain with only a few scattered clouds on the distant horizon, the stars twinkled brighter than most people would ever chance to see from their polluted cities. "Anything new, Master?"

"Yes, very much so. Can you spot it?"

Jane spent the next two hours combing the night sky, recalling every minute detail from her memories of prior gazing. She eventually thought something appeared out of place and pointed. "There. Up and to the right of Orion, something is happening in that region, though I do not know what."

"Yes," replied Aro with excitement. Two galaxies have begun to interact. Their collision will be spectacular to watch in the years to come."

With genuine awe, Jane tilted her head to the side. "I see it now, Master. Thank you."

"The humans, with their advance satellites, should spot it in a decade or two with any luck."

Jane remained silent for the next hour, enjoying the majesty of the universe when a nagging thought force her to speak.

"Master, what about the other satellites? The ones pointed not out at the grandeur of the universe but down towards earth. If I may speak freely, I believe we need to address this."

"You may of course speak freely. Heidi came to me; she is worried about you. She says that the advancement of human technology has become a major concern of yours"

"It has. It is advancing at an alarming rate. I'm worried that it will start intruding in our lives, making it harder for us to feed. What if they inject location tags under the skin of every human? The human's need to spy on one another could eventually put remote locations such as this under scrutiny."

"I see no reason to worry," said Aro without breaking his stargazing, his smile unwavering. "They mostly use the new technology to spy themselves. They rarely use their new toys to look outward, to look for the undiscovered."

"True, but I..." Jane's detailed concerns numbered so large that she could not continue as frustration and confusion suddenly converged.

Pleased by his pupil's vigor, Aro's smile grew. "Please, Jane, go on."

"I've begun to think that we need to do something proactive, that we should start governing them. Isn't that our purpose, being the superior life form?"

For several minutes, Aro thought to himself, the idea of governing having been debated between various covens before the industrial age. "Has this increased concern of yours come about from your new friendship with the priest?"

Jane had not made the connection herself but understood this to be true. "Yes, Master." With a faint smile, Jane asked, "How long did it take Felix to betray me?"

"He informed us immediately. You know his passing of information was not an act of betrayal. He simply found your behavior unusual. Felix and Heidi are only acting as concerned family members would. And like you, they want to keep our coven safe."

"I know, Master. I admire their loyalty and expect them to put the coven's needs first. I was more curious to see how long Felix could hold his tongue."

"Not long at all." Aro's smile twitched, betraying his forthcoming bemusement. "So, Jane, tell me about your friend."

With a slight hesitance, Jane replied in a flat tone, "I discovered the priest when we went to speak to our American friend. The elderly man is a senior priest, quite old for a human, who chose the smaller, remote parish for its tranquility. When Heidi used her persuasion on the man, we discovered that he was well aware of our existence."

"Yes, there are some members of the cloth who know of our existence, mostly in the Vatican. What draws you to this one man?"

"The priest told me that he didn't see me as evil. I'm not sure, but I half expected him to curse me, to demand that I leave his church. Instead, he was polite. He said that vampires also serve a purpose in God's universal. His comment made me contemplate more than our simple survival."

"As it should," said Aro.

Jane turned to the man gazing skyward. "Master, do you think we are on some sort of precipice?"

Aro broke his stargazing and turned with fondness to his junior. "Yes. And not just vampires; the whole world is standing on that precipice alongside of us."

Jane found Aro's twisted smile peculiar, if not a tiny bit reassuring. "Master, how can you be so calm about the current state of affairs?"

"Darling Jane, eventually, you will reach my grand age, and you will experience many things from now to then; and when you do, you will smile too."

"I hope so, Master." Jane began gazing down the mountain at the distant towns below. With her vampire vision, she could see many of the village lights as easily as the distant stars, lights too dim for human eyes to see from that altitude. "Master, if I may be permitted to ask, what do you believe is our purpose?"

Aro turned his gaze to the land below. "To rule, to make sure some sort of life continues to thrive on this pathetic rock as it drifts through the void of space."

"I agree, Master, but are we currently ruling or simply surviving?"

"Both," replied Aro. "And I do understand why you think we should do more. It's a concern we should keep in our thoughts."

"Thank you, Master," replied Jane, her voice now betraying her ferventness. "What if the humans create a nuclear holocaust?"

"What if they do?" retorted Aro, his eyes returning to the heavens above. "The radiation cannot hurt us. And with seven-plus billion people scattered about, the population should remain at sustainable levels for our consumption."

"True, Master, but hunting the remaining sickly bunch of radiation freaks will not be to our liking. Hemolytic cancers tend to leave a bad taste in my mouth."

"I won't argue with you there, but I suspect that the human race won't cross that line of nuclear annihilation."

A surge of wind swept up the mountainside, causing Jane's hood to whip against her weakening hair bun. A few loosened strands of hair began to float about her head. Ignoring the hair drifting through her vision, she clasped her hands behind her back as her eyes narrowed on the manmade lights below. "Perhaps we should target their technology."

Aro straightened out of his stargazing position and took a couple steps forward to stand beside his trusted guard. "Now child, that would be counter intuitive."

Jane's brow knitted as she turned to the man. "How so, Master?"

Caius, Marcus, and I considered an assault on technology when the humans first invented the transistor. Amongst ourselves, we secretly watched their scientist develop this new technology. We sensed a danger from the beginning that this could someday intrude on our secret world. As we three debated our next step, the answer presented itself in a most unexpected way. Jane, can you guess where we found our solution?"

Gnawing her lip, Jane frantically struggled to find the answer, something she thought she should know. After several head throbbing seconds, she conceded to Aro and said, "No, Master. But can I assume the answer was in plain sight."

"It was. The answer came from the abundant science fiction that grew from the advancements of technology. In their books, and later television, the writers of science fiction were predicting their own future with uncanny accuracy. Fiction writers are not just storytellers; these people study the world around them to construct plausible stories to which the public could relate. Fiction writers are behavior scientist in their own right. As we studied their works, we concluded that their mass surveillance, the human's constant need to connect to the network, and their disassociation with the real world would ultimately hinder the human race. Their technology was not a liberation, but a restraint. The humans may blanket this world with technology to fulfill their perverted lusts, but that technology will only leave them ignorant amongst a sea of noise and misinformation as a select few fight for wealth and power. And lest you forget, dear Jane, every civilization eventually crumples."

Jane resisted shrugging in disagreement. She remained respectfully motionless and said, "I'd feel more comfortable if we could speed up their self destruction and eliminate their technology."

Aro placed a hand on Jane's shoulder. "I do like your enthusiasm, but I think we can wait them out. The world is starting to teeter on that precipice, and I suspect we won't have to wait much longer."

"Perhaps, Master."

Aro gestured to the night sky with his free hand. "What does it say about humans when they'd rather stare at a computer screen than look up at this beautiful sky?"

Jane gazed up at the stars and smiled. "It tells me that they have reached their pinnacle."

"Precisely, dear one." Aro calmly clasped his hands together before his waist. "Now, Jane; lets discus our American friend. More importantly, the part of the plan you chose to omit."

Jane admired Aro's wisdom, his canny perceptiveness that came natural without his tactile telepathy. She bowed in respect, raising her face to reveal a grin. "Master, apologies, but I could not bring up that part of the plan in Heidi's presence, or risk her eavesdropping."

Aro smiled. "No need to apologize. I think I already know why."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

When Steven returned to Minnesota, he had more money than when he left. He had also cheated death for the first time—for now. Most importantly, he discovered that monsters, outside the human variety, actually did exist.

However, Steven understood that he could not tell any of this to his coworkers upon his return to work. He politely told everyone that he had a pleasant time. And when they asked why he did not take any photos of the famous sites, he replied, "Why bother when professional photos can be found online."

One coworker, Dee, sensed that something had happened and began prodding for clues, asking, "So, Steven, did you meet anyone interesting on your trip?"

"Not really," replied Steven from his adjoining desk. "I saw a bunch of old buildings, took a short trip into the countryside, and then visited England for a couple days before coming home."

"What? That's it?" Dee's feign subtlety gave way to her fiery Portuguese intuition.

At a poor attempt of playing nonchalant, Steven looked at his long list of medical accounts that needed to be coded for billing. He sighed and said, "Pretty much. Not much happened."

Dee spun her chair around to confront him more directly. "Wait, you never mentioned that your contest vacation package included England."

"Oh, um...I left the tour early and went off on my own. Turns out that looking at old European architecture gets old, rather quickly in fact. I would have been happier if I had stayed home and biked in the woods for two weeks."

When the last of Steven's family had passed away, a step aunt who he rarely had heard from, he was left with one friend: Dee. Though he had never mentioned his admiration for her directly, he had always looked up to Dee as if she had been his big sister, though he suspected she knew. Therefore, when he tried to obfuscate the truth, Dee always knew.

The woman began gnawing her lip as she studied Steven's facial expression.

He nervously returned her gaze. "What?"

"You're the only person I know who could go on a two week summer holiday to Europe and return paler than when they left."

"I'm a redhead. Besides, things often don't go as planned."

"At least it didn't cost you anything," commented Dee as she returned to her work. "How lucky are you?"

"Ya," mumbled Steven to himself. _How lucky indeed._ He lowered his head to look into the tiny mirror taped to his computer monitor, set there to watch for the boss over his shoulder. He studied his reflection, grateful that his eyes did not betray the hours of crying from the night before. Seeing the sorrow state of his reflection, he debated simply standing up and walking right into the psyche ward.

Steven began taking slow, calming breaths at his desk, happy to be surrounded by coworkers he trusted and enjoyed—for the most part. However, he still wanted to scream, to free himself from this invisible prison. Sighing, he stole a glance at Dee as she worked. Believing in the existence of vampires was insane, but despite this preposterous thought, he would not endanger his friend by confining in her. He then shuddered as he imagined one of these creatures of the night spying on him at work from the shadows to make sure of his silence. Glancing slowly around the office once more, the condemned man returned to work.

 **...**

The weeks passed with little change in Steven's life, if one did not include his growing depression. Work had become more tedious, but proceeded as before. More importantly, Steven did not see his tour guide or her young friend, which gave him hope, no matter how delusional.

By this time, the harvest season came into full swing throughout the farm valley, and the stench of sugar beet processing wafted over the neighboring cities of Fargo and Moorhead. The smell from the processing plants gave Steven a perpetual headache. Steven took this opportunity to visit his doctor, and after the initial consultation, one that resulted in a simple analgesic and advice for stress relief, Steven returned to his doctor days later with exacerbation, symptoms that the experienced medical biller knew to overemphasize.

The resulting CT scan returned negative for tumor, nor did it find a brain cyst or vascular malformation. Had the doctors discover a benign tumor that could have caused a hallucination, Steven would have jumped for joy. Instead, the man left the clinic with dwindling hope and the knowledge that something horrible had targeted him, be it human or supernatural.

His denial however did not turn to acceptance. Anger began to show in this normally mellow man as he began to tire of the paranoia and feeling of entrapment. He refused to accept that he would be dead within a year's time.

The absence of the mysterious women only continued to feed his disbelief. Embracing his denial and resisting with his rage, Steven carried on as if his experience in Europe was nothing more than a bad dream.

When Steven joined Dee at lunch, his friend stared at him as she aimlessly poked at her salad. Unable to hide her concern, she dropped her fork upon her tray and sat back. She wiped her mouth with a napkin and said, "Out with it."

"Out with what?" asked Steven, his eyes focused on his meal.

"Something's happened. You haven't been the same since your trip, and you depression is only getting worse. Don't think I haven't notice."

"Nothing happened. The sugar beet smell is torturing me worse than normal this year." Steven began dabbing his potato fry in his barbeque sauce. "I'm also not looking forward to a long winter. That's all."

"Did something happen in Europe?"

"No," replied Steven before biting into his stale hospital fry.

"Then why are you like…," Dee waved her hands frustratingly in the air in an outline of her friend, "…this! Maybe you should go see a doctor."

"I did, for my headache," said Steven before forcing a smile. "The CT came back negative."

"You know what I mean. You need a psychiatrist."

This time, Steven smile naturally at his friend. "You always think I'm in need of shrink. Don't you know that you are my psychiatrist?"

"Ya, and if you're not careful, I'm going to start charging by the hour." Dee slowly returned to her salad. "You never take the medicines they prescribe."

"The antidepressants always give me headaches."

"You still need them."

"I prefer exercise to antidepressants. Biking doesn't give me cotton mouth or ringing in my ears."

"Well then, exercise more. When was the last time you biked in the woods?"

Steven froze. His friend's observation left him stunned as he said in a reflective tone, "Too long."

 **...**

Located deep in the wildlife refuge, Steven strolled to the other side of the dirt parking lot, after having unloaded his bicycle, and urinated into the bushes. Turning back towards his rusty automobile, he began donning his cold weather gloves as he approached his waiting bicycle. After a quick safety check, he next mounted his bike and returned to the gravel road, taking his time to enjoy the scenery of the calm lake near the entrance of the parking lot.

With autumn about to give way to winter, few of the leaves remained on the trees, but those that did, reflected off the mirror surface of the lake along the shoreline. In summer, his appreciation of nature would be brief due to the unrelenting biting black flies of Minnesota. A simple flat tire in the midst of summer guaranteed any rider several seeping insect bites that would demand scratching during the long car ride home. Today, the only discomfort would be cool temperatures that required simple biking gloves and a wool hat, nothing that a cup of hot chocolate could not cure.

This day, the 11-mile bicycle journey through Tamarac National refuge began as normal, but when Steven's body temperature had begun to rise with the first signs of sweat moistening his brow, something awoke in the young man. He pedaled harder and faster, climbing the small hills that dotted the trail faster than before. The stress and dread of the past few weeks erupted into unforeseen energy as he attacked the mixture of gravel and dirt trails. His lungs stretched with deep, rapid inhalations as the scent of dry leaves filled his nose and mouth. His eyes gleefully scanned through the barren trees at the ample lakes and marshes as porcupines and deer scurried into the shadows.

And unlike the beautiful Italian church in which he had sought refuge, this mostly forgotten forest, a protected sanctuary of nature, was his true place of worship, his center of the universe. Every buried rock in the trail, every fallen tree he passed was etched into Steven's memory. Every inch of this forest was sacrosanct. Steven had once told Dee that this forest was where he wanted his ashes spread if the unforeseen should happen, the place where he always biked with passion ash he pushed his heart to its limit. Steven always reasoned that if the beating in his chest were to stop, he wanted that moment to be here amidst this mostly undisturbed nature.

Steven continued racing along the trail, climbing hill after hill to race down the slopes past wet marshes and small lakes that sporadically lined the trail. When he reached the largest of the lakes at the midpoint, Steven realized that a true smile had formed on his lips. His smile grew as his lungs burned; all of which he fervently enjoyed as he pressed harder, racing unrelenting along the winding trail that now hugged the larger lake's shoreline.

His bike glided over a tiny ridge on the trail before entering a slight curve on the bottom. When Steven exited the bend, he instinctively reached for his brakes, bringing his mountain bike to sliding halt near the shoreline.

A stone's throw away from him, in the center of the trail, a woman with long mahogany hair stood under the shadow of tall Minnesota pines. Heidi wore a long flowing dress with her arms simply hanging at her sides. When Steven failed to approach, she began walking towards him. She walked at a normal pace, her appearance non-threatening. The woman began to gaze at him with a certain curiosity when she stopped several strides away at the edge of the shadow where the sunlight divided the trail between them.

To his astonishment, Steven could feel his already racing heart begin to beat harder, and despite not pedaling, his heavy breathing did not lessen. In fact, he inhaled even deeper with emotion. When the woman stepped from the shadows into the sunlight, the young man's eyes widened as Heidi's skin began to sparkle with the intensity of countless tiny diamonds. The sheer intensity of the light caused Steven to turn his face away, and as he glanced down, he noticed that the woman wore no shoes. He forced himself to look up as the sunlight continued to sparkle off Heidi's skin in a most brilliant fashion. He then said with labored breath, "You shouldn't be here. You don't belong."

Confusion washed over Heidi as she remained motionless in a show of peace.

Steven turned his bike around and sped away. He flew back over the ridge he had just crossed, but when he looked back from the crest, he discovered an empty trail. He pedaled franticly to return to his car, pedaling harder than he ever before, fueled by fear and an unexplained anger. Blinded by this unwanted emotion, he traveled through the forest with the sensation of passing through a dark tunnel, the majestic scenes around him now invisible.

When he reached the start of the trail and coasted back into the small dirt parking lot, he again slid to an emergency stop when he found the same woman standing by his car. "How?" he asked with labored breath.

"I ran," replied Heidi without effort.

Steven glanced down at her bare feet.

"I ran right by you," said Heidi before nodding towards Steven's car. "You know, we could help you with that."

Remaining on his bike, he began weighing his flight options, struggling to speak when he asked, "What do you mean?"

"I can buy you a new car. I'm surprised this old thing got you here."

"I like my car." Steven glanced to his left where a second trail entered a different section of forest.

Noticing the young man's distress, Heidi presented a cordial smile as she clasped her hands politely together in front of her. "I promise you; I'm not here to harm you."

Steven next searched the surrounding parking lot for other visitors.

"Jane did not travel with me today. She returned to Europe a couple days ago after helping me scout the area for danger."

"Why are you still here?" asked Steven. "I don't want to become one of you, so either you kill me or let me go."

"I'm here to make sure you remain safe."

Steven hopped off his bike, pulling his car keys from a zipped pocket located under the bike seat. "I won't talk to the authorities; I already promised you that." Opening the trunk to his car, he quickly began removing the wheels from his bicycle, a speedy process perfected under the unrelenting duress of biting summer flies.

"I know, but I have my orders, and you have your ultimatum. So where does that leave us?"

"I don't know. I suspect my untimely death sometime next summer." Steven tossed in his bicycle, closely followed by its wheels before closing the trunk. "If you would excuse me, I'd like to leave now."

When Steven slid by the woman to open his car door, Heidi prevented him from closing it as he fell into the driver's seat. She reached into her pocket to produce a small folded piece of paper, which she calmly offered to the young man. "Here, this is my contact information. I've rented a condo across the river in Fargo."

"Why would I contact you?"

"I don't know; girl chat?" Heidi again offered the slip of paper.

Steven stared at it with disdain, but as his glance drift upward, the woman's stern look forced him to accept the paper.

"We prefer face to face contact," added Heidi, "but if necessary, you can use any of those I've listed. Just be vague in your communications."

"Okay," replied Steven with a hint of defiance. When Heidi closed his car door, the man immediately started his car and shifted the transmission into drive. Turning in a sharp circle, he headed for the parking lot exit, kicking up dirt in his haste. As he passed the woman, he watched with bewilderment as she made the telephone gesture with her thumb and pinkie, mouthing the words _call me_.

Left to her own in the dusty dirt parking lot, Heidi gazed up into a tall, barren maple tree where a great horned owl sat perched. With a frustrated smile, she asked the feathered creature. "How do you put up with him?"

To which, the predator bird indifferently turned his head away, to which the frustrated woman jealously thought apropos.

Author's note: I should have mentioned this earlier, but this story has 29 chapters.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

After changing into something more appropriate for the city, Heidi drove to Steven's apartment. Having 'fished' him months prior, she knew well enough where he lived, his phone number, even his email address, all of which she collected when she had baited him into entering a travel contest—one in which he had already won.

In her rearview mirror, Heidi checked her hair, having taken the time to wash the 'woods' from her well-cared mahogany strands. Simply talking over the phone seemed to her to be a great waste of time since the man would most likely hang up. She would be professional—and polite per Jane's instructions. Mostly, Heidi had prepared herself for a night of cordial conversation, something that oddly left her nervous despite having been the Volturi's fisher for the past century.

The woman entered the apartment building with ease, bypassing the door security system when someone unquestioningly held the door open—common for folks in northern Minnesota. Walking down the stained carpet hallway, the stench of processed frozen food recently heated in an oven pierced Heidi's nose. Unable to ignore the smell, she sensed the odour's source to be Steven's apartment. She gently knocked on his door and waited. Her finely tuned hearing detected his bare feet walking across the linoleum tile. When his shadow appeared beneath the door, she smiled warmly at the peephole.

After several seconds, a muffled cursed preceded the sound of the door chain sliding free and the lock flipping. Steven opened the door wide, his face betraying his distrust. "What?"

"I was in the neighborhood," began Heidi as she brushed her hair back. She tried to smile like one of the human females she humouredly observed at night on their dinner mating rituals. "I thought we could talk. If you have any—"

The door closed with a soft thud, followed by the click of the lock.

"…questions." Heidi knocked again. _Don't kill him,_ she thought to herself in a long forgotten language. _Do not kill him!_

Steven opened the door only to stare her without a word.

Heidi forced herself to smile once again. "I'm not your enemy."

"You're right," said Steven. "You're my killer."

With sharpening focus, Heidi listened intently, but not for what Steven might say; the woman listened for anyone on his floor who could be eavesdropping. When she sensed their isolation, she said softly, "Be careful."

The sincerity in her voice raised Steven's neck hairs. The man stepped away from the open door and returned to his couch where a half-eaten grocery store pizza awaited him.

Heidi stepped inside, gently shutting the door behind her. She surveyed the small studio apartment, her nose wrinkling repeatedly at the numerous offending scents that her vampire sensitivity could not ignore. "I've seen nicer dog kennels."

Steven ignored his unwanted guest's comment and bit into his next slice of pizza.

Remembering the need to be cordial, Heidi frowned. "Sorry. I'm not very good with light conversation. I just meant that this is a nice place for someone who lives alone."

This innocent comment triggered a brief glare. Nonetheless, Steven ignored her once more as he carried on with his dinner.

Mostly angry with herself, Heidi slowly stretched her fingers to release her clenched fists, the sound of the strained tendons rubbing against her hardened bones, only audible to her ears. She gently clasped her hands together and proceeded to the couch, taking a seat opposite to that of the young man. "Sorry," she said. "I didn't mean anything by my observation. I'm only visiting to make sure that you were okay and to answer any questions you may have."

"Why would I have questions?"

"Um," began Heidi with a raised brow. "You have just learned of some shocking news. I suspect you've been weighing your options, which often leads to questions."

"I only have two options: become like you or die." Steven focused ahead as he shoved the last of a pizza crust into his mouth.

Heidi rolled her eyes, sighing softly. She paused and said, "Believe it or not, I'm only trying to help you."

Steven reached for a can of soda before sitting back against the couch. After a couple quick sips, he let his hand rest atop his thigh, his finger nervously tapping the side of the can. Swallowing hard, he began, "Every day, I process the billing for medical records of people diagnosed with cancer. And each day, a few of those patients have been diagnosed with a terminal form of cancer. My heart always goes out to them as I wonder how hard it must be to receive such terrible news. Even though I've performed this job for years, I could never imagine what they go through...until now. I now have a better understanding. Meeting you has been akin to being diagnosed with terminal cancer. Beyond asking myself the traditional _why me,_ I find myself in some sort of tragic…catastrophe." Steven glared at the woman at the other end of the couch. "I really don't have any questions for you. Right now, I feel as if I'm trapped in a tiger cage, but the tiger is simple sitting there, staring at me as it purrs from time to time. I know eventually that the tiger will have to eat."

Trying to understand the young man's thoughts, Heidi said in a soft, respectful tone. "This tiger has no interest in harming you."

Finished with his can of soda, Steven set the empty can onto the coffee table with a soft, distinct thud. "Okay. Since you want questions, after you kill me, are you going to consume my body? Or do you just take the blood?"

"We only need blood."

"Oh. Good. Well, I hope you enjoy mine." Clenching his jaw, Steven's eyes aimlessly drifted around his apartment. "So, does all blood taste the same? Do fat people taste...I don't know...surgery?"

Heide felt her emotions rise with the man's sarcasm. Keeping her voice low, she replied calmly to his flipped questions. "Blood can taste different between people, though the differences are minor."

"Do you sleep in coffins?"

"No. Some choose to live below ground in furnished dwellings in order to avoid the sun. As you saw with how the sunlight reflected off my skin, people would notice. I live in a nice apartment below ground, from which I can access the numerous underground dwellings of my coven."

"Okay," replied Steven, his snideness replaced with a hint of interest. Swallowing hard, his brow knitted as he subconsciously began rubbing his thighs—a nervous tick he picked up during childhood—and said, "I know what you are doing. It won't work."

Holding back her grin, Heidi too sensed that she had finally struck up a meaningful conversation. "What am I trying to do?"

Steven deflected his gaze to the wall. "You're trying to brainwash me."

"No," replied the woman coolly. "If I could do that, you would have never left that museum."

Steven stopped rubbing his thighs as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end for a second time that night. "Okay, your _persuasion_ , whatever you call it, your magic doesn't work on me, but you are still trying to trick me."

"No tricks. I'm hiding nothing. We want you to join our coven. And with all honesty, we don't know what, or if, you'll have a special gift once you ascend into vampire form."

After a brief moment of gnawing his lip, Steven asked, "What if I become like you but don't have a _gift_? Will you then kill me?"

 _Finally,_ she thought as she sat back into the couch. With a quick lick of her lips, she said, "You will still be part of our family. Not all of us have gifts; nonetheless, we are very loyal to one another." Heidi slowly crossed her legs. "You are one of the few who know of our existence. Don't you have countless questions? Don't you want to know the mythology from fact? If humans have any good traits, it is that you are always curious. Ask me anything; I will never lie to you."

"Never lie?"

"Never," repeated Heidi as she straightened a wrinkle from her dress.

A smirk spread across Steven's face. "Everybody lies."

"If you ever catch me lying, I'll..."

"Leave me alone," injected the young man, "and let me live out the rest of my life in peace?"

Ignoring his suggestion, the cautious woman folded her hands in her lap.

"I didn't think so." Steven rose from the couch, collecting his pizza plate and empty soda can. He turned to the woman and said, "I'm going to make some tea. Would you like a cup?"

This time, Heidi could not hide her bewilderment.

"I'm my mother's son," the man said. "She would be upset if I wasn't polite."

"Even to a vampire?"

"I don't know." Steven stepped away towards the kitchen counter. "She said to always keep an open mind. And she taught me that most things are never what you expect, like vampires who sparkle in the sun."

Heidi turned sideways on the couch and said, "Your mother sounds very wise. If you give me just a little of your time, you might be surprised at what you learn."

Shyly, Steven turned away and proceeded to make tea. When he reached for his tea mug, he held up the cup as an invitation. "You never said."

"No thank you."

"Water?"

"We don't drink water."

Steven turned towards her with an inquisitive look.

"We get our needed fluids from..." Wrinkling her nose, Heidi searched for a way out.

"Blood," said Steven. "Like you mentioned before, just say the truth."

Heidi gave a thankful nod before repositioning herself on the couch, rationalizing that withholding the blood to venom conversion was not actually lying. _I will tell him...later,_ she thought.

Minutes later, Steven returned to the couch and set his mug of tea on the coffee table. A white string from a tea bag hung over the side of the cup as the bag floated on the surface.

Heidi stared at the drink with a perplexed expression. "What is that?

"Tea...with two teaspoons of honey. Did you change your mind?"

"God no." Rolling her eyes, Heidi resolutely said, "That's not tea."

In a defensive tone, Steven retorted, "Yes it is."

Heidi shook her head. "No. No it is not. I've lived in England off and on as I floated about Europe over the centuries. That's not tea."

"You don't drink tea," countered Steven. "I suppose you haven't drunk tea over those centuries; you cannot weigh in as an export. Besides, this is just a little different; that's all."

"For your information, we can drink for the pleasure of taste. We can even drink alcoholic beverages, the alcohol toxin having no effect since on us. I simply don't feel the need to consume frivolous drinks. If I did, I wouldn't drink _that_."

Steven fell back against the couch, crossing his arms in frustration.

Similarly, Heidi sat back, crossing her legs, her foot twisting in the air with agitation.

Steven began watching the perturbed movements of the woman's dangling foot when a legitimate question popped into his head. "Back in the woods, why were you barefoot?"

Heidi became still, her eyes shifting slowly between the young man at the far end of the couch and her foot. "Isn't it obvious?"

"You shoes fall off when you run fast?"

"No," replied the woman with a perturbed look, thinking the answer more than obvious. She gestured at her foot.

"It hurts less to run barefoot?"

Heidi eyes widened in dismay. "Men!"

"What?" Steven scooted forward to the edge of his seat to look closer at her foot. "I'm sorry, but I not getting it."

"The shoes I was wearing are similar to these."

Wanting the mystery to end, Steven looked at her with an almost pleading look in his eyes.

The woman sighed heavily and said in a heightened tone, "I was wearing Ferragamos, similar to these, but with kitten heels, oh and burgundy in color."

Glancing at her current shoes, white in color, Steven shrugged. "So."

"So? So! I wasn't about to tread through a forest in Ferragamos."

"What's so special about them?"

Heidi's eyes widened. "They cost $800 dollars."

"So?" Steven slid back into his chair.

"So? Don't you know anything about shoes?"

"Apparently not. They look like $100 shoes to me."

Hide rose to her feet. "Are you trying to piss me off?"

"No. What's so special about them?"

"They are handmade in Italy."

Leaning forward to glance at her feet once more, Steven said as delicate as he could, "And...?"

"What don't you understand? They are hand made in Italy and cost a lot of money."

"That's not interesting."

Heidi froze where she stood, her arms rising slowly as her hands slowly clenched into fists. Dropping to her sides, she said, "Okay, I'm done here. You've gone too far." Struggling to stay calm, the woman stepped around the couch and headed for the door.

Steven could feel his heart pound nervously in his chest as she walked away. When the woman opened the door, he felt a sense of relief come over him despite flinching when the door slammed shut behind her.

Heidi stepped lively down the apartment corridor, planting her high heels firmly into the worn hallway carpet, mumbling subconsciously in old Latin, "How could he? They're Ferragamos for crying out loud!" _Arrg!_

As she stormed out of the apartment building, she cursed into the night air, "Expensibilis ubique monetae, Jane!"


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

When the smartphone buzzed in her pocket, Jane sneered, just as she would anytime confronted with technology. She hated smartphones most of all, but with Heidi's assignment to northern Minnesota, Jane carried one for any unexpected emergency. She pulled out her smartphone as she drove through the dark Italian countryside with the anticipation of seeing the same, repeated text of _I hate you!_ stretched across the tiny screen. Today, that text was replaced with the words, _My shoes! NEANDERTHAL!_

Knowing better than to respond, Jane dropped her phone on the passenger seat. She next let up on the accelerator, which her toes barely reached, and coasted the inconspicuous automobile into next village. On the horizon, she could see the church steeple and its solitary light over the main doors, the delicate artistry of the arch frame highlighted by the light's warm glow.

Jane appreciated the longer winter nights since the darkness allowed her to venture out in a car—alone. And if the police pulled her over, she could deal with the problem in the dark. However, Jane had always been careful, never having needed to silence an officer of the law; therefore she reached the church without incident, as she herself confidently expected.

She arrived to this location much later than her last visit, past the time of confession, but she had planned for this. Seeing the front double doors of the church closed, she exited the car and proceeded around the building towards the back. She slipped through a narrow garden; and upon turning the corner, she spotted a light emanating from a small window. Inside, she found the priest sitting at a tall kitchen table, reading a newspaper as he reached for a small cube of cheese from a plate resting beside his cup of tea—black tea by Jane's keen sense of smell.

The small framed woman gingerly stepped through the rest of the garden and knocked on the backdoor. She watched through a tiny window in the door as the priest looked up with a start, tensing for a moment before relaxing when he realized that her announced presence signaled peaceful intentions. Invited with a gentle wave of the priest's hand, Jane preceded into the kitchen, gently closing the unlocked door behind her.

The priest studied his unexpected guest since her presence still gave him a slight concern, though he feared not for his life. He again spoke in the old Latin when he said, "Hello, my child, how may I help you?"

"Hello, father. I was hoping we could talk. And since my sins are too numerous to mention, I thought it best we avoid meeting in confessional."

The priest smiled. "Very well. Please, Jane, join me. Can I get you some tea or a bite of eat?"

"No, but thank you." Jane climbed onto a vacant stool at the adjacent corner of the kitchen table. "I'd only be wasting your food if I were to pretend to eat."

The priest lifted a small cube of yellow cheese from his plate. "Do you ever eat for the pleasure of it?"

"Not so much through my taste buds. But I get a good sense of taste simply from my strong sense of smell." Staring at the tiny cube of cheese in the old man's hand, Jane inhaled deeply. "If I am correct, that's Friulano, well-aged. It comes from the Friuli region, making it a specialty item only available at finer grocers. I can taste the hint of hazelnut for which this cheese is famous. I presume it's most enjoyable to you."

"It is. I'm impressed."

Jane smiled subtly as she reached into her the outer pocket of her robe. She produced a bundle of cash that she set it on the table, sliding it towards the priest.

"What's this?" asked the man.

"For your time, Father."

"You don't have to pay me. I do not just serve God. I serve everyone."

Jane sat upright on her stool, folding her hands enthusiastically in her lap. "Consider it a donation to your church." She gazed about the room, the signs of age apparent by the visible cracks in the wall, faded painted cupboards, and neglected windowpanes. "I suspect the Vatican doesn't share its riches with you."

The priest stared at the generous stack of money for a moment, smiling in gratitude as he slid the donation to his side of the table. Returning to his tea, he said, "Thank you, Jane. It is most generous and...unexpected."

"Unexpected from a vampire?"

"No," said the man. "Just unexpected." The man took a slow slip of tea. "Did you anonymously donate last month's generous donation?"

"Yes, Father."

"Thank you again, Jane." With a growing smile, the priest took a larger sip of tea, setting his cup gently on the table in a manner more ritual that cautious. "Your donation has helped many in my flock."

Jane sat quietly, for she felt no pressure to speak as she took in the small nuances of the room.

The priest, suspecting a reason for the visit, asked, "What brings you here today?"

"Nothing."

The man paused as he exchanged a telling look with his guest. He slowly reached for the next cube of cheese. "Nothing? It must be an important _nothing_ that brings you to my doorstep."

"Perhaps it is, Father," replied Jane, her face betraying a subtle coyness. "I must admit that I found our last encounter...mentally stimulating. It has been quite a long time since I felt this from conversation."

"If I recall correctly," began the priest, "albeit, they informed me many many years ago, you have a couple masters. Or are you the now the senior member of your coven?"

"There are three masters in our coven, for whom I proudly serve."

"Do you not share stimulating conversations with them, or are you not permitted to philosophize with your elders?"

"We speak from time to time, but your view on life, about vampires, I found unexpected and intriguing."

"You flatter me." Having finished the last of his cheese—his one daily treat set aside for himself, the priest gulped down the last of his tea. Wiping his mouth with a paper napkin, he said, "I'm nothing more than a humble old man."

"No." Jane shook her head subtly. "You're different from other priests."

"Perhaps," replied the man. "I can tell you that I wasn't one of the seminary's favorites. Nearly was thrown out for my test scores. I seem to have a memory more suited for remembering the unimportant things in life; hence, I tend to forget what I most need to know." The man tapped his forehead. "A lot of _nothing_ is trapped up here."

"You said in the confessional that you considered military service, choosing ultimately a path of peace."

"Yes."

"You then said that years later a woman would break your heart. Would it be wrong of me to assume you were already a priest?"

The old man stared down at the table as if visualizing those distant memories on a small television screen when he slowly nodded. "Yes, in training. Her name was Cornelia, and she was the love of my life."

"But you were a priest?"

The man looked up to meet Jane's inquisitive stare. "It was during my seminary. The woman and her husband hired me to teach their son Latin. After each lesson, I would proceed to this woman's garden to discuss her son's progress. Her garden was the most lavish in the village, and she would spend days there, perfecting it, ever expanding the layout."

"At the expense of her son?"

"No, no. She loved her son more than anything, but she needed her garden like one needs water. I admired her from the first day we met. The love, however, did not happen for quite some time. Each day, we continued to speak about her son until our conversations expanded; our friendship grew. I came to understand that the garden was her quest to give purpose to her life. She said that her son was the center of her universe, but through her garden, she thought she understood God's vision: life, death, and rebirth. To her, the garden was an ever changing puzzle to many of life's questions."

For the benefit of the priest, Jane readjusted her sitting position so not to remain peculiarly still—like a vampire. With an unforced smile, she asked, "When did it become more than friendship?"

"During the summer break. Her and her husband invited me to spend a couple weeks with them at their lake villa. They wanted their son to continue with his studies, to save him from an idle mind as they worded it. It became evident right away that Cornelia missed her garden, so I went into town to purchase some basic plants, presenting them to her as soon as I could. We picked a small corner of the villa and planted the lot. It wasn't much, but it would suffice for the few weeks we would be there. When we finished planting that initial batch, we simply stood under the shade, admiring our work with some lemonade, both of us dirty and sweaty. She then wished aloud for her husband to understand her passion as well as I had. When I stepped towards her, she did not flinch or divert her gaze. She stood there, a mirror of my own emotions. I kissed her. Brief the kiss may have been; it was the happiest moment in my life. I felt as if my purpose in life was to love this woman. That belief, I thought, turned to fate when she visited my room that night as her husband had departed on an emergency business trip to Rome."

Jane could sense the priest's palpable emotions brought on by his reminiscing. She asked, "How long did you spend together?"

"Almost a year. Her husband often traveled for work, so we made the most of those trips. Then one day, she called an end to our relationship, stating that my tutoring services were no longer required. She had begun to worry that with her son growing up, that he would soon piece together what had been happening. She had to put her family first."

"Didn't you fight for her?"

"Like in the movies?" The priest smiled. "That is not how it works. Either love happens or it does not. You cannot force it."

"Did she love you?"

The priest pressed his fingernail into a deep gouge scratched into the table's surface many years ago. He picked at the tiny wood splinters before answering, "Yes, but she loved her family more."

Jane watched the muscles in the man's face tense for a moment before returning to their aged laxness, his thoughts continuing to revisit the rollercoaster of memories.

After her accession, Jane had never taken much of an interest in the lives of humans; however, a few recent events had caused her to seek answers, answers for questions that she did not even know. She asked the priest, "Is lust and love the same thing? Poets will say no, but I'm curious to what you think."

The priest stared at Jane with a hint of bewilderment. "I thought vampires continued to function much the same as when they were human. Am I wrong?"

"You are not wrong, Father, but I became vampire at a time when I had not hormonally progressed as far as other girls, most likely due to malnutrition. Once we turn, our bodies become frozen in that snapshot of time." Jane observed how the man's brow pinched together as his gaze fell to the table. "Father, there is no need feel sorry for me; I consider the absence of this trick of nature a blessing. It makes me immune to irrational thoughts and actions."

"I see," said the priest with a fresh understanding. "Well, the simple answer is that they are different. Simply, lust is an itch that needs to be scratched. Love is devotion. Love makes you want to devote your life to someone...a family. Do you ever seek relationships?"

"No," replied Jane. "I've been spared from that spectacle."

The priest weighed this discovery in his mind. "Do you feel resentment for being different from other vampires?"

"No. How can I resent something I don't understand?"

The man shrugged. "But you still love. You love your brother?"

"Yes."

"How about your masters?"

"I care for them too," replied Jane. "Aro especially, like a father. I will always be grateful to him for making me who I am today."

"Do you have a best friend, someone you would want to spend the rest of your days with?"

Jane did not need to speculate long with this question. "No. Being a vampire, this partnership could be extremely long. Why would I wish for something so impractical?"

"Various reasons. And much like those reasons, love can be just as varied."

"Is there something wrong with me?"

"No. Of course not," said the priest with a warm smile. "Everyone is different."

"If lust is an itch," continued Jane, "what is love in relation to lust."

"That pairing is...," the priest inhaled deeply. "Well, passionate love is...an obsession. It is what the heart wants. Sometimes we are able to fulfill that want; other times we are simply left wanting."

After a moment of contemplation, Jane said with a hint of wonder, "Cornelia left you wanting?"

"I'm afraid so, but I continue to cherish every second we spent together."

"Did you ever find someone else?"

"She was my one. Other than her, I only have room for one other love in my life." The man pointed to a small crucifix around his neck. "I was able to dedicate the rest of my life to God after her. So you see; I've been blessed more than most people."

Jane stared at the crucifix. When she looked up into the man's eyes, she asked, "Of the two, who do you love more?"

The priest met her stare and said, "God."

Jane's keen hearing locked onto the rhythmic beating of the man's heart as it told her a different story. Even without her vampire sensitivities, she could see that this man wore his heart on his sleeve. She reached out to clasp his hand with her cool, gentle touch. Smiling, she said, "Cornelia was lucky to have known you, and I'm sure God did not mind sharing you with her. I can see that you are a most wonderful man, if not a terrible liar."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

With lunch tray in hand, Steven took his usual seat next to Dee in the hospital cafeteria. He appeared to his friend—if not also to the rest of the office—much happier than normal, outwardly positive compared to the last few weeks since returning from Europe.

When Dee caught sight of the unexpected leafy salad that constituted his entire lunch, she dropped her loaded fork of steamed broccoli onto her plate, mumbling through her partially chewed food, "Salad? Who are you?"

"Don't worry," Steven said in a merry tone. "It's Halloween; you know my tradition of eating healthy at lunch. I'm gorging myself on a large pepperoni pizza tonight."

"Ah, right. Halloween," mumbled Dee before swallowing her broccoli. "I've never understood why you enjoy Halloween so much?"

Steven began pouring a heavy dose of salad dressing over the mound of shredded cheese that nearly covered his salad. "Halloween is the one day of the year when I'm not afraid."

Dee paused chewing to glare at her friend.

"It's true," he continued. "You know that I tend to worry…a lot. Halloween is the one day with no worries. The monsters that hide under our beds take the day off from their daily animosity to walk harmlessly among us. This is the one day of the year that is free of darkness."

Lightly amused, Dee subtly shook her head. "Have I ever told you that you are weird?"

"This morning," replied Steven as he poked his salad. "The day before too if I'm not mistaken. Several times last week."

"Shut up," Dee said, chuckling.

Steven poked at his salad for his next large bite of cheese and salad dressing when a shadow appeared over his shoulder. He froze inexplicably when he noticed the astonished look on Dee's face. Peeking over his shoulder, he choked when he discovered the woman with the long flowing mahogany hair, dressed in casual clothes. He stared at an ordinary tee shirt that hung off her shoulders awkwardly.

"Hi," said Heidi with a wide smile. "I thought I spotted you walking into the cafeteria." The woman looked to Dee sitting across the table. "Hello."

"Hi," replied Dee as she could not withhold her surprise. Turning to Steven, she asked, "Who's this?"

Steven sat paralyzed, not knowing what to say. His perplexity only grew when he glanced down to find the woman wearing brand new cross trainer athletic shoes.

Ignoring Steven, the woman introduced herself to Dee, "I'm Heidi."

"Oh." Dee waved her finger between the woman and Steven. "You two know each other?"

Heidi stepped to the side to see Steven's face. "Yes. We met one day when Steven was out biking. I was running. I wanted to exchanged phone numbers, but neither of us had our phones, or a pen, at that time."

Still speechless, Steven continued to sit with a stunned look on his face as took notice of how Heidi avoided lying to his friend.

"I knew Steven worked here, so I figured we'd run into each other eventually."

"Do you work here?" asked Dee, who appeared to be enjoying this unexpected surprise.

"No," replied Heidi. I work in acquisitions for a small outfit based in Italy. I've been assigned to the Midwest temporary."

"Italy?" Dee waved her fork at Steven. "He just got back from Italy."

"I know," said Heidi a bit too enthusiastically. "I hope he returns to Italy sometime soon. I'd love to give him a personal tour. I've always wanted to be a tour guide."

Dee eyed her silent friend. "I'm sure he'd enjoy that, wouldn't you Steven?"

"No," he said in a curt tone. "I like Minnesota just fine."

Dee's gaze sharpened.

"Well, travel isn't for everyone," injected Heidi. "I've been enjoying my time here, but I could use a guide. Steven seems to know all the less traveled trails in Northern Minnesota"

"He does indeed." A sly grin spread across Dee's lips. "I believe he is free tonight. Aren't you, Steven?"

Lightly clearing his throat, Steven replied with a stunned voice, "I have plans. You know that."

"No, no," Heidi said, touching Steven's shoulder briefly. "I'm busy tonight. Something has come up unexpectedly. I'm afraid that I need to rush out of town on business."

Steven released a soft sigh of relief as he slipped his fidgety hands under the table. "Have a safe trip," he said, his voice betraying a hint of insincerity.

"Thanks," retorted Heidi in a matching, if not mocking tone. "But it would be nice if you wrote down your phone number for me. Perhaps we can meet some evening after work when I get back from my trip."

Steven patted his pockets. "I'm sorry; I don't have a pen on me."

Dee pulled a pen from her day planner and slid it across the table. Before Steven could complain about not having paper, Dee tore a page from the planner, sliding the sheet firmly across the table.

Steven picked up his pen only to hesitate. "Um...I cannot remember my own cell phone number. Strange how that happens in the day of smartphones, huh."

Dee rose out of her chair as she reached across the table, snatching the pen and paper from Steven. "I should smack you upside the head as long as I'm up." Flopping down into her chair, she proceeded to write down Steven's name and phone number, gleefully passing the paper to Heidi. "Steven bikes all the time in the woods, every weekend in the summer. He often shows me incredible photos of the many forgotten farmsteads in the protected wildlife refuge. If you like getting lost in the woods, there is no better guide than Steven.

"Sounds like fun."

Hopping to catch the woman in a lie, Steven asked, "Do you like biking?"

"I have in the past," she replied without hesitating. "You know what they say about riding a bike: you never forget."

"What brings you into the hospital today?" he dared to ask in a second attempt to get her to lie. "I hope you're not ill?"

"No no. I was just thinking about a blood donation. But like I said, something has come up, and I have to rush out of town." Focusing on Steven, Heidi leaned against the edge of table to bring her face inches from his. She surreptitiously rubbed her cheek as her index finger pointed towards her eye.

Steven immediately took the hint, observing how her amber colored irises had darkened. With a vampire inches from his face, one in need of feeding, he kowtowed like a scolded schoolchild, returning his gaze to his salad. "I see."

Dee had taken notice at how the stranger had oddly affected her friend. Assuming Steven's extreme shyness to be the cause, Dee interceded. "Where are you heading?"

"Minneapolis," replied Heidi as she straightened, her forced smile unwavering. "Just for a few days. It will be my first time to the Twin Cities."

"I'm sure you will enjoy it," commented Dee.

"Any areas I should avoid?"

Dee noticed a brief smirk that flashed across Steven's face. Pulling her perplexed gaze away from her friend, she replied to the woman, "Um, all large cities have their areas. Stick to the well-lit sections, if you are heading downtown near the venues, you'll be fine. Just don't stray into the housing areas by the Mississippi River. Mostly, trust your instincts."

"I will. Thank you." Heidi then rested her hand gently on Steven's shoulder, which brought out a surprised look from the young man—as if landed upon by a spider. Heidi's smile slyly grew from the man's reaction. "I'm glad we ran into each other again, Steven. Can I call you when I get back in a couple days?"

"Ya," he said. "Sure."

"Good." Heide gave a parting wave to Dee as she began to turn away. "Gotta run. Happy Halloween."

Dee pounced on her friend as soon as the mysterious woman had disappeared through the cafeteria's exit. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What?" Steven rolled his shoulders to stretch his tensed muscles.

"Why didn't you tell me about her?"

"There is nothing to tell."

"She seems to like you."

"I doubt it." Steven returned to his lunch. "Wouldn't you agree that she's a wee bit out of my league?"

"Why do you put yourself down like that?"

"That's what twelve years of public school taught me. That's the only thing public school really teaches you." Steven aimless stared at the drenched salad dangling off his fork. "Besides, I think she's significant older than me."

"Perhaps," replied Dee. "But not by much. Some women want younger husbands, men who will stay active with their kids longer."

Steven found his friend's comment amusing. "I've talked to her enough to know that having kids is not on her mind."

Dee's onset of chuckling betrayed her next comment. "Maybe she needs a younger man just for the stamina."

"Do you want me to give you the finger now or back in the office?"

Using a napkin to hide her smile, Dee continued to snicker as she returned to her lunch.

Grateful for his friend positive, if not fiery outlook on life, Steven began to see some hubris in his situation. He gently pushed his plate away. "Don't you think it strange that a woman that attractive would want to spend any time with a freak like me?"

"No," replied Dee as she lowered her napkin to her lap. "No I don't because you are not a freak. When you're not dressed like a mountain bike hippie, you are a handsome man. You may not believe me, but I could easily see you standing next to that woman."

Steven could feel the heat radiate off his cheeks. "Don't you think she's too...I don't know...radiant? I'm a dull person."

"If you mean that you appear to be opposites, I won't argue with you there, but no one would question her choice in you. Opposites do attract. Besides, you are a kind soul who would never hurt anyone. Only a woman pure of heart would recognize a gentle man like you."

With one sentence sounding so profound, and the following sentence yet so far off the mark, Steven felt his heart slip back into despair as he finished his lunch in silence.

When they returned to the office, Steven worked through his afternoon shift with little to say.

After which, he languidly made his way to his car parked several blocks from the hospital. When he spotted his first 'trick or treaters' of the night, the children unexpectedly rejuvenated his spirits, reminding him that his favorite day of the year was still upon him. As the day had a tendency to do, the spirit of the holiday brought back his smile.

Just before reaching his car, he realized how paranoid he had become since his trip—with good reason. Lifting his head, he looked up the moon and admired the celestial beauty. He inhaled the cool night air, taking deep breaths through his sinuses. Most importantly, he pulled out his cell phone and ordered his traditional Halloween pizza for pickup.

Perhaps the constant fear had made him delusional, but Steven let himself have this day, a day where a real monster seemed to have taken off. This night belonged to the gentle souls of the word; therefore, he set aside his worrying and smiled, for there would be plenty of time tomorrow for dread.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

After adding additional wounds to the corpse, injuries that would make the man's demise appear gang related, Heidi gently slid the body into the water. She made sure that the dead man's lungs filled with water before directing the blood-drained body towards a turbulent section of the river where rough waters swirling about rocks and debris would further obfuscate the true cause of death.

The contented vampire then glided through the shadows the couple of miles to her parked car. She had avoided all surveillance as her keen eyesight detected the smallest surveillance cameras, all of which she avoided with ease, leaving no tracks or evidence behind for a chance investigator. She again had executed the perfect hunt, and yet with the fresh blood circulating through her body, clearing the inescapable hunger from her mind, she thought this particular hunt had lacked something.

She opened her car door, resting her foot upon the automobile's doorsill. With disdain, she stared at the expensive athletic shoes that helped her integrate into American culture. The smooth-white abominations served no purpose in her eyes. She could run across the entire the country and not suffer a single scratch. She recalled how the native people of this land had forgone their shoes outside the winter months. Shoes were an extension of society, a symbol of the first hominids becoming civilized. These athletic shoes further symbolized a complacency, a mental laziness that took the easy way out whenever possible. These shoes made her feel average, but she had to fit in for this assignment.

As Heidi slid into the driver's seat, she recalled the dead man's ridiculous clothes—the stretch pants. _I'll be damned if I ever attempt wear THOSE,_ she thought with disgust.

Heidi started the engine only to leave the automobile in park. She removed her smartphone from the glove box to send off another quick text message of "I hate you!" to Jane before putting her car into drive and proceeding north out of Minneapolis, a city she now considered her hunting grounds. She could easily text and drive, unlike humans, but the final rule of hunting demanded one to egress carefully: obeying all traffic signs and speed limits. She had her gift of persuasion to avoid any potential tickets, but there was nothing to stop the police officers from reporting her car to dispatch as they pulled her over, not to mention record the stop on a dash cam.

More accustomed to hunting around harbors and their neighboring cities, Heidi had scouted Duluth only to find the city lacking. Despite being a fresh water harbor, and of decent population size, she had grown wise to the fact that a good harbor city needed a large international presence for regular hunts. Better yet, frequent military dockings often brought in shadow governments and criminal organizations, both fueled by corruption, an ideal combination that allowed degenerates to go missing.

The large metropolitan area of the Twin Cities became the best alternative for Heidi's hunting. Though not overflowing with crime like the other American cities, the criminal element she found would provide ample dangers that would mask her pursuits.

Her two days of surveillance paid off with the mapping of several hunting districts, each providing several options for body disposal. And the drug dealer whom she had fed on this night did not disappoint, providing her with pure, untainted blood—as dealers tended not to use their own product.

Heidi quickly returned to the highway, and once she passed St. Cloud, northwest of the Twin Cities, she pushed her car well over the speed limit to race through the barren swath of land that separated Minnesota's eastern forests from the farmland of the Red River Valley. By the time she reached her apartment, she had already thought through her next meeting with Steven.

To sooth her nerves, Heidi lingered under a scorching hot shower, washing her hair twice as tradition. As she later brushed her hair, admiring her lush strands between her fingers, she pondered conversation topics that might cause Steven to open up. She assumed that friendship with this human loner impossible, but she still had to get him talking. If he talked, she could begin probing his mind in the hope that he might change his opinions.

Steven had fitted her fishing profile perfectly, but he being a lost soul also meant that she had to work harder to uncover the intricacies that constituted his being, details that she could use in conversation in the hope of lessening his anger.

Late in the afternoon, Heidi slipped into her least offensive American Midwesterner attire, forced herself to slip on the inconspicuous athletic shoes, and proceeded to drive across the river into Moorhead, making one stop before heading for Steven's apartment.

When Steven opened the door, Heidi sensed that his heart had not skipped with fright. She smiled at that miniscule sign of progress.

However, Steven had come to expect her—mostly due his extreme lack of visitors. He stared for a moment at the pizza box in her hands before asking, "What's that?"

"A honey glazed ham," replied Heidi as she glanced down at the box with disdain. "What do you think it is?"

When Heidi presented the box for closer inspection, Steven lifted the lid to verify the type of pizza within. "How do you know that _this..._ is my favorite?"

Sighing, Heidi diverted her gaze up and away. "The stench. Duh." She forced herself to look at the pizza. "As long as know where to focus my senses, I can detect this abomination from about mile away. It's processed food like this that forces... _people_ like me to turn off our sense of smell."

"You can do that?"

"Yes. We have to. We wouldn't be able survive mentally among your lot during the few times we intermingle. Normally, we stick to our own kind in our secluded sanctuaries. It's one reason some us travel to the remotest parts of nature."

Having just bicycled home from work, Steven's growling stomach announced his pending need for dinner. He pulled on his sweaty yellow t-shirt as he continued to stare at the pizza box.

Heidi waved the box slowly under his nose. "Well, can I come in? This pizza is all yours if you say yes."

When Steven's stomach growled a second time—louder and longer than before, he snatched the box from the woman. "Yes."

With a slightly raised chin, Heidi smiled, taking this second tiny victory as further progress.

Steven held the door open to his potential killer, ever the gentleman his mother raised. He then proceeded to express his gratitude, just like a good Midwestern boy would. "Um...thanks. Pizza was on my mind today."

When Heidi entered the small apartment, she mistakenly sniffed the air, a defensive vampire habit; however, she hid her disgust well. When she turned around, she began to suspect that Steven had noticed her response when she found the man staring at her. "Something wrong?"

"Your irises are again...red, reddish," replied Steven.

"Yes." Having expected Steven's observation, she had planned her response so not to avoid the obvious. She stood silent, allowing the gentleman to study her eyes fully.

"You've fed."

"Yes. I thought you understood my reasoning for traveling to the city when we last spoke in the cafeteria."

"I did." Turning away, Steven set the pizza on the kitchen counter. He stared down at the box, unable to look at his unwanted guest. His voice softened, continuing, "But seeing the evidence in your eyes puts everything into perspective: that someone has died." Steven slowly removed a plate from his cupboard before turning to his guest to ask, "Would you like some pizza?"

"No, but thank you."

"Okay." Steven let the cupboard door fall shut with a soft thud as he began adding two slices of pepperoni pizza to his plate.

Heidi joined him at the counter. She gestured to the slices of pizza and asked, "Since you are a keen observer, what do those round slices of pepperoni symbolize to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"If my red eyes signify a person's death, shouldn't those slices of meat do the same? I doubt very much that the cows and pigs that ended up in the pepperoni casing died of old age."

"I used to think about the sources of food as a teenager when I became aware slaughterhouses. One just accepts it after a while."

"As do vampires," said Heidi. She smiled faintly, adding, "However, we reach acceptance much quicker than any wannabe vegetarian."

Tickled by her mild teasing—truthful it had been, Steven grinned in acknowledgement. "True enough; but if I had to kill the animal, I would most certainly be a vegetarian." He then dared to study her eyes once more. "Does the actual blood turn your iris red?"

"Not exactly; it's a protein in the blood that causes it. If I feed exclusively on big game, my eyes would turn more golden since the protein is slightly different."

After several seconds of continued staring, Steven turned away with reddening cheeks. He reached into the fridge to remove a previously opened can of soda. With the door still propped open, he next reached for an unopened can from the same shelf, opening it before setting the same can back into the fridge.

When the man closed the fridge, Heidi pounced with her question. "What did you just do?"

Steven held up his previously open can of soda. "This?"

"Yes."

"I like flat pop," he said with further reddening cheeks, his embarrassment now fueled by self-consciousness. "It tastes better this way."

Heidi's look of astonishment did not waiver. "You're basically drinking hummingbird nectar. It's just sugar water."

"So. No one who drinks blood should be able to criticize me." Steven took his dinner plate and flat soda to the couch where he plopped down onto the worn cushions, propping up his legs on an old coffee table.

Heidi followed, taking a gentle seat at the other end of the couch. She watched with amazement as the young man proceeded with a fork to peel the cheese topping off his pizza before biting into the bare crust. With an aghast stare, she asked, "Are you trying to make me leave?"

"What?" mumbled Steven through the large bite of crust.

"No one eats pizza like that?"

"I do." Steven took a swig of flat pop before holding up his can, saluting his guest with an unabashed smile.

Heidi fell back against the couch, crossing her arms as she turned her face away from the dining catastrophe. When she crossed her legs, her bouncing foot betrayed her extreme annoyance.

Steven continued merrily with his crust when Heidi's athletic shoes caught his eye. "Why are you wearing those?"

"I'm wearing these so not to draw attention when I'm in your neighborhood."

"Okay. But I doubt anyone would notice those Italian brands." Steven prepared to take another large bite of crust when he paused to say, "I bet they cost less than a hundred dollars."

Exhaling slowly through her nose, Heidi tugged on her Midwestern attire that refused to hang off her slender body properly. "Believe me; I'm not wearing these shoes, not to mention these clothes, for the savings. And for your information, these shoes cost almost $300 dollars."

"You were ripped off."

A heavy sigh emanated from Heidi as she focused on Jane's strict instructions. However, the sigh continued like rolling thunder on a humid summer night.

Steven moved onto the cheese and pepperoni topping. He folded the melted combination lengthwise with his fingers before using his fork to cut off a bite. Piercing the morsel with his the tines, he turned and asked, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said with a blank stare. "I don't expect you've ever had to worry about drawing unnecessary attention. I'd actually be surprised if any of your neighbors could recognize a pair of Ferragamo shoes, or read the label."

"You're probably right," mumbled Steven before swallowing his cheese. "They'd simply think you're a prostitute or something."

Heidi mumbled something under her breath.

Steven looked up from his plate. "What?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just saying how much I hate my little friend."

"Where is she? I thought you two always traveled together." Steven shoved the next, even larger, fold of cheese and pepperoni into his mouth.

"Jane and a couple of my fellow brethren from the Volturi guard traveled with me to Minnesota. They spent a week scouting the area before leaving me here...to _babysit._ "

"Scout for what?"

"Other things that go bump in the night? Things that may not be friendly towards vampires."

Staring at the woman, Steven's chewing slowed until he swallowed hard.

"Don't worry, we found nothing within 300 miles of Fargo, not even solitary vampires. Apparently Minnesota is too hellish for monsters."

"Do you mean like bigfoot?"

"Maybe. There are beings we call shape-shifters; they can take the form of a giant wolf or bird of prey. Perhaps they have played the part of bigfoot in the past just to humor themselves."

"They're more deadly than a vampire."

"Not one on one, but when they form packs, as shape-shifters tend to do, they can hunt down and overcome one or two of us. That is why Jane and her brother, Alec, came with me to Minnesota to scout the area. Those two together can handle just about any threat. The Volturi as a whole can deal with pretty much any supernatural army."

Steven reached for his can of soda. "Jane is the little one?"

"Correct."

"How old is she?"

"Twelve hundred years old, give or take a decade. As you must have guessed, she and her twin brother are condemned to remain in their teenage bodies. Normally, the Volturi do not allow young vampires, however, circumstances called for their early transformation. All turned out well since neither has shown any dangerous manifestations that come from being turned before full maturity."

"Such as?"

"A vampire child tantrum could devastate an entire human village. They are unpredictable and wild. Most important, child vampires remain in their state forever and could easily re-expose the world to our existence. The Volturi have worked hard at making the world forget, to turn our existence into nothing more than a fairy tale."

Steven was slow to swallow his latest swig of flat pop. "And how old are you?"

"Just under five hundred years old."

"Who's the oldest?"

"In our coven, the three masters are each over three thousand years."

Steven took another bite of topping as his mind digested the news. Since the information did not directly involve someone's death, he found these new discoveries more agreeable. Enough time had passed since his first encounter in Italy that he had begun to feel as if he had fallen into a forgotten crack in the universe. However, this new acceptance did not lessen the shock that came with each new piece of information, his disbelief sometimes leading him to irrational conclusions.

"Three thousand years of not being able to enjoy pizza sounds like a horribly long time."

Heidi shook her head, correcting him as politely as she could. "We can eat pizza, but we cannot digest it."

"So it just passes through you?"

"No. Later, in private, we must expel our stomach contents. That includes any liquids we may ingest."

A grin formed on Steven's face. "So you don't go to the bathroom?"

Heidi eyed him with caution. "If you must know, the answer is no."

"That must have saved you a lot of money over the years."

With a furled brow, Heidi failed to make Steven's implied connection.

"Toilet paper," he added.

With another audible sigh, Heidi's frustrated gaze drifted away to the other side of the room. She began considering the next profane epitaph to text Jane when her eyes fell upon a small shelf of books. Her keen eyesight easily read the titled spines, the majority consisting of history books about World War Two, specifically, a certain six months of the war. The woman refrained from smiling as she gestured nonchalantly towards the books. "I hope you don't mind, but I just perused your collection of books over there."

Steven's eyes shifted several times between his guest and the shelf. "Let me guess, vampires have eagle vision."

"Almost," replied Heidi as she repositioned herself on the couch. "I see that you have an interest in the Battle of Britain."

Steven halted the dissection of his latest slice of pizza to stare at the woman.

Meeting his gaze, Heidi said with a grin, "I was there."

Falling back into the couch, Steven let his fork rest loosely on his plate. He gazed at the woman with a fresh understanding that she had experience history first hand. Estimating the calculations, he guessed that she had been alive during both world wars, even during the time of Napoleon and the great sailing ships. If he was not trapped in a nightmare—if not rotting away unbeknownst in some psych ward, he was sitting next to a living history book. Then again, she was a vampire who kills, if not one who also deceives by skillfully bending the truth.

Weary of a trap, he returned to his dinner. "I don't believe you."

"First, as I have promised you before, I don't lie. Second, why would I lie about something so simple?"

"Being a _fisher,_ as you call yourself, I assume you know how to manipulate people, your gift of persuasion beside the point. On top of that, aren't you Italian, wouldn't you have been in Italy during the war, chilling out in those old underground tunnels."

"Why would I need to lie about something that far in the past? I already _fished_ you into my trap."

Biting slowly into his bare crust, Steven nodded in acknowledgment.

"And I'll have you know that I wasn't born Italian. My human birth was in the area now called Germany."

"So you were on the side of the Nazis?"

Heidi frowned at the man. "Why would you say that?"

"You're German...and a vampire. If I had to guess, someone has probably made a bad Hollywood movie with that specific combination in mind."

"Hollywood probably has, but we vampires actually sided with no one during that war, that includes the wars before and after. We are not concerned with your petty human conflicts. And we were not _chilling out,_ as you described it. Before the age of Orwellian surveillance, we vampires dared public interaction much more. At the beginning of World War Two, I was in the south of England."

"Doing what?"

"Art acquisition."

Steven stared at his pizza as he deciphered her words. "Let me guess; you mean stealing art?"

Heidi shrugged. "Semantics. Most of British Museum is stolen art, no one complains about that."

"What kind of art was there to steal in England?"

"Plenty. The British government was so desperate to protect their hoard from the Germans that the best works of art were transferred to bomb shelters in Wales and Scotland."

"But not much of the art reached their destination," concluded Steven.

"The forgeries did," replied Heidi with a knowing smile. "You may not believe this, but the Volturi disapproved of those two world wars. The bloodiest battles sent many new vampires into blood lust frenzies. We were forced to follow the battles and seek out those frenzied vampires, mostly newborns, so that our identity would remain secret."

Steven lowered his pizza crust. "What do you do? Rehabilitate them?"

"We tear off their heads and burn their bodies. It's the only way to kill a vampire."

Steven's mouth hung open. Swallowing hard, he then asked, "You kill your own kind?"

"Yes. The secret must be kept. And once frenzied with blood lust, it's nearly impossible to calm a young vampire. I and a couple other Volturi guards patrolled around the bombing sites in the south of England, hunting, listening for any unexplained stories that the locals might share."

"How many did you have to dispose of?"

"Not many, but the majority of the Volturi had their hands full with Eastern Europe. Luckily for us, most of the stories died with those who witnessed them."

Steven's interest in food had vanished. "It all sounds very grim."

"That's war."

"Do you actually have a Battle Britain story?"

"One. And it's a story that you can verify?" Heidi rose to her feet. "But I should be going."

"What?" Steven suddenly realized that he had fully taken the woman's bait. Grimacing, he fell back into the couch with the self-admission that he wanted to hear her story. "It better be good," he said, sounding slightly defeated.

Heidi smiled at the man, speaking in with a feign coyness, "Does this mean that I'm welcomed to return?"

Steven refused to look her in the eye, grumbling a simple, "Yes."

"Good. You won't be disappointed." Heidi stepped around the coffee table to stand before the man. "You know, I almost visited you that night we met in the cafeteria. I thought that you'd be amused by actually being visited by a vampire on Halloween, but when I heard you explain to your friend your reasoning for your enjoyment of the holiday, I immediately decided to go hunting instead."

Steven gnawed his lip before asking, "You made a point of telling me so that I wouldn't worry about a visit from you that night; didn't you?"

"Yes. Did I do the right thing?"

"Yes. I think you did. It helped."

Heidi slowly stepped towards the door. "I hope you had a pleasant and spooky evening, free of fear."

"I did."

"Good," said Heidi before quietly slipping out of the apartment. Closing the door gently, she smiled, rationalizing that she had earned what she was feeling—whatever _that_ was.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Jane took a seat on a dilapidated wood and cast-iron park bench tucked away under a shade tree in the corner of the lush garden. Appearing carefree, she lightly swung her legs as they dangled through the top of the grass, the result of her small frame. She admired the great care and grouping of the garden flowers. When a light breeze swept through the secluded churchyard, stirring all the plant life into chaotic swaying motions, Jane's senses awoke abruptly as she inhaled the many sweet scents.

When the smartphone buzzed in her pocket, she slid the device from her sun protective robe and read the same text, _I hate you_ , those same words having been sent several times prior. Now those words were followed by an ever-growing list of adjectives, including profanity of varied languages—some present and some of forgotten tongues. Returning the phone to her robe, the complicit vampire returned her attention to the garden.

A couple hours later, the priest exited the church and proceeded into the garden. He wore loose fitting gardening cloths and a large brimmed hat that protected his elderly, liver spotted skin. He weaved through the garden, inspecting each section diligently as he planned the various pruning and weeding needed. Making his way towards the back of the garden, his inspection came to an abrupt halt at the sight of his small friend.

"I apologize, Father," said Jane in greeting. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

The priest smiled warmly at her. "Not a problem, Jane. Just unexpected."

"This is a most wonderful garden, Father."

The man nodded in agreement as he approached the old bench, the dilapidated wood creaking as he slowly sat down next to his guest. "Thank you. It's a nice place to collect one's thoughts, especially on Mondays after a good Sunday sermon."

Jane stared at a collection of nearby roses swaying ever so slightly in the morning breeze. "You must have loved her very much."

Accompanying the man's smile were eyes that revealed even more, a never-ending longing.

Jane surveyed the garden as a whole. "Can I assume that this garden is a recreation of hers?"

The man glanced proudly out at his living tribute and said, "Yes, but on a much smaller scale. Cornelia was a prolific gardener. I don't have the resources, or even the space, to recreate her actual garden."

"Father, this is spectacular nonetheless."

The priest tapped his ecclesiastical ring on the weathered wood that formed the seat of the bench. "This actual bench is from her garden."

Jane ran her fingers over the chipped paint that dotted the cast iron ends that held the wood planks together. "Did you steal it?"

The old priest laughed heartily. "Sort of. When a new family moved into Cornelia's home, I approached them with a story that I had known the prior family and that this old bench matched the ones in our graveyard. They were more than happy to donate it to my parish."

"Your graveyard has marble benches."

"True," said the priest with an unabashed smile.

"You naughty boy." Jane's admiration for this complex human continued to grow. "A love affair, lying, what will I next discover?"

"Not much more...thankfully. We priests are only human, and susceptible to evil like everybody else."

Jane's look turned discerning. "But you were never part of _that_ evil that currently plagues your denomination?"

"No I wasn't. Neither did I ever help hide it. I'm glad that our dirty laundry has been exposed. It's the only way to fix it, to begin the healing."

"Is that why you chose this remote parish?"

"Partially. I was never meant for the bureaucratic side of the Vatican. I wanted to return to a small parish; moreover, when this place became available, it reminded me of Cornelia's favorite house of worship."

"She had a large impact on your life."

"Yes," replied the priest. "The biggest. Every day, I do by God, but I also try to do some good by her, as she might have asked of me."

Jane detected the slightest weight in his words, a change human ears would not detect. "She's no longer with us?"

"No. Cancer. About twenty years ago."

"Sorry."

"That's quite alright. Thank you for your condolences." The man reached for Jane's much smaller hand, withdrawing his touch when he discovered the marble like coolness of her skin. For a few seconds, he stared at her small hand before reaching for her touch once more. Squeezing gently, he said, "In the scheme of things, we are only here on this earth for a split second; that includes delightful vampires such as you."

Surprised by the man's innocent offering of friendship, Jane was no less appreciative to his reaching out. She returned his gentle squeeze and quietly returned her gaze to the garden.

As the priest looked outward over the courtyard, something quite unordinary grabbed his attention. The priest pointed to a very large man at the far side of the garden, a man standing absolutely still as he stared up at the overhang of a storage shed. "Is he with you?"

"Yes, Father. That's Felix."

"What's he doing?"

"He found a beehive under the eave. He's fascinated with bees."

"I hope he doesn't plan on distributing them," said the priest with a hint of worry. "My garden benefits much from that hive."

"He won't, Father. Felix has an unusual admiration for bees. He values them more than humans. Frankly, he's obsessed. He likes to listen to the hive. He'll stand there for hours and listen to the queen bee. Our vampire hearing can parse the thousands of sounds coming from a hive."

"I thought bees communicated through pheromones and choreography. Is he listening for anything in particular?"

"No. Felix simply says that their buzzing calms him."

The priest stared across the garden at the man. "He stands stiller than the statures about my parish. How can you tell if a man that still is upset?"

"By his sneer," replied Jane. "The bigger the lip curl, the more upset he is."

"Oh. And what does he do?"

"Do?" asked Jane in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Does he have a gift like you?"

"No, Father," replied Jane. "But his gifted human strength gave him bountiful vampire strength upon his ascension. His strength is most helpful."

"Helpful for what?"

"For tearing off the heads of misbehaving vampires."

"Oh," said the priest in a surprised tone. "We in the Vatican didn't think there was much strife between your kind, ever since you masters brought order to the various covens.

"Balance has been maintained for quite some time, and we are vigilant at making sure we remain unseen; however, small packs of undisciplined vampires appear from time to time. If they cannot be brought under control, we quickly bring the order to them."

"It appears that you have a difficult task. Humans have never been able to find that balance." The elderly man then began studying Jane's features, inspecting the flawless skin on her face, closer studying the hand held in his own. He turned the hand over, admiring its artist like perfection. He then focused on her pale-brown hair, all to Jane's bemusement.

The man continued, "When my elders passed down the knowledge of vampires to me at the Vatican, they said that your hair stops growing. Is that true?"

"No," replied Jane, pulling back her hood. "Our image is part of our hunting arsenal. It is true that our hair and nails are nearly immune to damage, but we do sometimes lose hair in combat. Balding vampires would make no sense since beauty helps to attract prey. The protein in our consumed blood aids in the regeneration of any hair or fingernail loss."

"It is also believed in the Vatican that your skin sparkles in the sunlight, like diamonds. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"How about your hair? Does that sparkle?"

"No, Father." Jane began to feel embarrassed by the man's curiosity, though her face would never betray it. She had not felt this way in centuries. Beyond Aro, no one had ever made her feel special, at least, without fear. No one outside her coven had ever been her friend. Timidly, she asked, "Would you like to see me in the sunlight?"

The man's eyes widen, his modesty causing him to withdraw. "I don't want you risk being discovered just for me."

Jane listened intently for other humans. Hearing no other people in the vicinity, she shook her head. "We're definitely alone."

Jane stood from the bench as the priest reached out to stop her, his curiosity ultimately letting her hand slip away as she stepped from shelter of the shade tree into the light. The sunlight radiated brilliantly off the exposed skin of her face and neck. She pulled up the sleeves of her robe to expose her forearms, the spectacle of light immediately grabbing Felix's attention. When the giant vampire began to approach, Jane kindly waved him off with an accompanying reassured look.

The light delivered no pain to the priest's eyes, and soon, the old man's expression of awe turned to joy. And when a tear rolled off his cheek, he said softly, "Like and angel. Just like an angel."

Jane let the light reflect off her skin for a few more seconds before stepping back into the shade. She pulled down her sleeves, asking, "Was it what you expected, Father?"

"More than I could have ever imagined. My elders could never have described what you have showed me. There are not enough words in all the languages of this world. Thank you."

Returning to her seat on the bench, Jane asked, "Why don't the elders continue to pass the knowledge of our existence amongst the Vatican?"

"Those at the top believe it best to restrict the secrets that might send the world into panic. Besides, there are more frightful things than vampires in this world. If there is to be an apocalypse, it will come from man's own doing, not from vampires."

Jane's brow arched with interest. "I would have thought we were the most feared, that the Vatican directly associated us with the devil."

"When I was at the Vatican, the topic of vampires rarely came up. They are mostly concerned about man's future. On the surface, the world might appear to be a better place, but the growing darkness in men's souls is beginning to smoother what remaining light remains in their hearts. Mankind has yet to find its way, and time is running out."

Jane gazed at Felix as he had returned to his bee watching. From the corner of her eye, she glanced at the old man. "Father, have you lost your faith?"

"Only in the leaders of mankind, not in God."

"What about mankind?"

The priest became quiet, reflective as one hand began fiddling with his crucifix necklace. "The world leaders have my love, but if they are to rise above the evil that men do, well, it depends on people like you and me. Don't you think?"

Jane's smile twisted into a smirk. "Vampires, the saviors of the human race?"

"Why not," replied the priest with a faint shrug. "Mankind appears inept to do so."

"Perhaps, Father." Jane rose from the bench, unseeingly calling to her escort when Felix turned from his bees at the very same moment. "I look forward to discussing this further when I return."

"Where are you going?"

"The new world. My friend in North America is attempting to convince a human male to join our coven. Things are not progressing as we had hoped."

Making the connection, the priest's head bowed. "You mean to make him a vampire?"

Jane secured her robe before pulling up her hood. "Yes, Father. I have the suspicion that he will possess a powerful gift as a vampire. And if you and I are both correct about the future, my coven will need to be much more powerful. More importantly, we need to convince this man to join our coven voluntarily."

The priest slowly rose to his feet. "Otherwise he and his gift could side with someone else?"

"Yes, Father."

"And the most powerful allies are the ones who are your friends."

"Exactly, Father." Jane smiled up at the old man, appreciative of his wisdom, and his friendship. "However, if I don't hurry, she might kill this man before we get a chance to see what he can do. Something unexpected has occurred."

The priest peered under Jane's hood to read her faint expression. "Ah," he said with a growing smile, "If what I am seeing is true, you need not worry."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

For the past hour, Steven nervously paced inside his studio apartment. Occasionally, he would stop to move his computer mouse to bring the monitor out of sleep mode only to stare at the email he had just written, reconsider the brief message, and then step away without sending it.

The distraught man then began pacing quicker around his couch, occasionally slapping his thighs or running his fingers through his short-cropped hair. As he passed around the couch in the middle of the room, he grunted with frustration as he thought, _I'm so tired of this..._

When his internal clock sensed that the computer monitor would soon darken, he stopped pacing and began staring at his screen. When the monitor began to fade, he cursed as he reached for the mouse. This time, he clicked 'Send' and stepped back from his desk, immediately regretting his action. As the blood drained from his face, he collapsed onto his couch with nothing more to do than wait.

Steven's pulse thumped in his ears. And despite trying to come to grips with his stress, he continued to feel as if he could jump out of his skin. He recalled the medicine he once received before a dental procedure. The tiny white anxiety pills had worked magic on his stress, but he had used up those three pills years ago. He had recently tried to renew the prescription only to be denied by his family doctor, given instead a simple pamphlet on how to manage stress. Burying his face in a couch pillow, Steven cursed his doctor.

An hour later as he pondered better excuses for anxiety—something that might result in a prescription other than work stress, Steven flinched when someone knocked on his the door. Forgoing the peephole, he opened the door to find Heidi dressed in a tight jade green dress cut above the knee.

When Steven failed to speak, Heidi said in a cheery tone, "Hello."

"Hey," the confused man said in return. "I didn't think you would visit so soon. I wrote 'at your convenience' in the email."

"I know, but it's the first time you've contacted me. I thought it was important."

Steven continued to stare at her exposed skin, amazed how it remained milky white in the cold weather. "Aren't you cold?"

"No. Never." Heidi stuck out her leg, admiring her own perfect complexion. "I know I should wear a jacket so not to draw attention to myself, but winter is apparently late, and a lot of people around here are getting by without winter jackets."

"Ya, but they aren't dressed for an elegant summer brunch."

Heidi shrugged at the comment before hinting, "You know, it's _chilly_ out here in the hall."

Not taking the hint immediately, Steven jumped back a couple seconds later, saying, "Oh, sorry. Come in." When he closed the door, he asked, "Can you even detect changes in temperature?"

"Of course; however, weather never gives us any discomfort. Sometimes when Jane and I go up into the Swiss mountains, we'll do so barefoot."

Steven glanced down at her designer shoes before staring blankly into her relaxed gaze.

"It's true," she said with a smile. "It's like walking on the wet sand at the beach, but only finer."

"Where are your athletic shoes?"

Heidi's smile instantly turned sour. "Ugh, those things. I only wear them for my visits here. I was at the mall when you emailed me and did not want to return to my apartment. Do you know how hard it is to find Bruno Magli in this part of the world?"

"I can't imagine."

"That's right; you can't," said Heidi before sighing loudly. "I'll have to look around the Twin Cities the next time I'm in the area."

Steven now associated the Twin Cities with a new, grim meaning: what her trip meant to some unexpecting soul. His gaze drifted towards the floor as his conscious struggled with the thought.

Sensing the man's distress—the anxiety seemingly pouring forth from his pores, Heidi attempted to present a more cheerful demeanor. She smiled and asked, "How can I help you?"

"What?"

"Why did you need to see me?"

"Oh." Steven eyes flitted to the kitchen counter where a simple tea tray rested in full preparation. "I thought you'd like some tea?"

Holding back her astonishment, the woman carefully parsed her response. "I didn't mean to make you change your tea habits. I hope I didn't give off a threatening vibe over your choice of drink?"

"No. But you did get me thinking about tea. And I agree that my version of tea is atrocious. I've visited England twice, this year and once before when I was a teenager. And I'll admit that I'm a bit of an anglophile. On both trips, I actually enjoyed proper British tea. And I've always wanted to try to reproduce it here." Steven paused, glancing at the tea set for a second. "Considering my remaining time, I thought now would be best to learn how to make a proper cup of tea, especially since I have someone here who has lived in England."

"Okay," said Heidi with a look of optimism. "And I promise to only give constructive criticism."

Steven began wringing his hands as his brow furled. "Um..."

"What?"

Steven gestured to a large plastic bowl atop his refrigerator. "Would that do?"

"Do for what?"

"To spit out the tea. Since you don't drink or eat, I was wondering if a bowl would work."

Heidi smiled. "No need. I'll drink the tea normally."

"But you'll then have to vomit it up later."

"So." Heidi smiled, amused by the man's concerns. "Vomiting is no big deal for us."

"Doesn't it burn your throat?"

"No. It's no trouble for us. It's as simple as walking. So please, I would like a cup of tea."

Steven appeared to relax despite his unrelenting nervous smile. "Thank you," he said before stepping to a tiny side table set under the sole window in his apartment. He pulled out the chair. "Please, have a seat."

Playing along, Heidi slipped gracefully into the chair and crossed her legs with a simple flare. She ran her hands over the cheap blue tablecloth, the synthetic fabric so new that the hard creases had yet been worn flat. When Steven returned to the small kitchen counter to finish preparations, Heidi began inspecting the rest of his apartment—attempting to ignore the abundant filth.

Before the water came to a boil, Steven transferred the milk and sugar to the table. He then returned to the counter for a box of crackers only to hesitate. He turned to his guest and asked, "I know you don't eat, but would you care for some crackers and jam?"

"No thank you. I'll stick with tea."

"It's very good jam," he added without a second thought, grinning uncontrollably only after he realized what he had said.

Heidi immediately detected the lark and countered with her response, "Well, I don't want any jam today, at any rate."

Steven paused, for he thought the word play silly. However, curiosity got the best of him; uncertain that he and his guest were on the same page, he continued nonetheless. "You couldn't have it if you did want it. The rule is jam tomorrow and jam yesterday, but never jam today."

With a natural smile, Heidi folded her hands over her knee. "I love that book."

Steven gave a faint sigh and said, "It's my favorite."

"You prefer it over the first book?"

"No," said Steven before gently setting a small plate of crackers and jam on the table. "But I appreciate how the second book is darker, more personal. Chapter 8 was the author saying farewell to his muse. Her inspiration had given him everything. He had captured a moment of magic on paper. If I had to guess, he understood that he would never write anything that magical ever again. It was two decades until Sylvie and Bruno came out, and there was no magic found within those books."

Heidi simply sat and listened. Every piece of information was another piece of the puzzle that she needed to collect.

When the kettle began to whistle, Steven promptly added the boiling water to the teapot before transferring the steeping tea to the table. As he took his seat, he asked, "What is your favourite book?"

Heidi's mouth twisted as she considered the question. "If I had to pick one, it would be Madame Bovary."

Steven smiled. "I just read that. That was on Hemingway's recommended reading list."

"Did you enjoy the story?"

"Very much so." Steven glanced at Heidi's clothes before peeking under the table at her shoes. "It appears as if I'm having tea with Madame Bovary herself this evening."

"Perhaps you are," she replied with a sharpened gaze—and smile.

Steven then teased, "Good thing that I don't have any poison."

"That's okay," said Heidi, her smile twisting. " _I am the poison_."

Steven pondered her words. He tried to remember if this had been explained to him before; however, the stress of learning one's imminent fate led him to forget many things of late. "I'm sorry; if you told me this before, I cannot remember."

"When I ascended from my human form," began Heidi, "my blood was replaced by venom. The poison in our veins is one of our defense mechanisms."

"Oh." Steven slowly reached for a cracker.

"It's also how we convert people. A simple bite that breaks the skin starts the process. Our venom only needs to enter the bloodstream."

Steven subconsciously began rubbing his thighs. He forced down his bite of cracker before asking. "No fangs, right?"

"No fangs."

Recognizing his nervous tic, Steven moved his hands under the table before glancing at the clock on the distant wall, realizing that he should remove the tealeaves from the pot. After doing so, he filled both cups with tea. He picked up a small bowl containing sugar cubes only to pause in his confusion. "Um, I'm not sure how much to add. I've always used honey at home."

"When you visited England, how did you like it? Sweet or bitter?"

"Sweet."

"Then I think three cubes will do.

Steven careful added three cubes to his tea before passing the bowl to his guest. After seeing the woman add a single cube to her tea, Steven reached for the milk. He added a splash, observing how the tea turned slightly lighter in colour, to mahogany. Unsure, he looked to his guest.

"If you like sweet tea, I'd say add enough milk until it turns taupe colour."

"Okay." Steven added a couple more splashes of milk until the tea turned the colour he had often seen in England. "What does the milk do anyway? I was too timid to ask over there."

"It adds to the sweetness while smoothing the acidity." Heidi then added a tiny splash of milk to her own before stirring the mixture.

Steven stirred his own, asking, "You know, I can still get you a second mug or bowl?"

"For what?"

"To spit out the tea after tasting it."

Heidi frowned. "That's disgusting. I'll drink it like you. When I get home, I'll vomit it up like a normal vampire."

Steven focused on his tea, mumbling, "Nothing normal about that."

"What?" asked Heidi, pretending not to have clearly heard his comment.

Keeping silent, Steven removed his spoon before gingerly lifting the cup to his mouth. He blew across the surface a couple times before taking a sip. His palate sensed something different. He sipped again, still unable to detect the difference.

Heidi took a healthy sip and let the mixture coat her mouth before swallowing. She took another sip before setting down the cup. "Is the tea as you remembered, Steven?"

The man licked his lips as he lifted the cup once more to his face. He took a long sniff and sipped again. "It's close, but something is off. Do you know what it is?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"I'm not telling."

Steven eyed his guest. "Why not?"

"Your invitation to your apartment has been a most wonderful surprise. If I point out your mistake, you may never invite me again."

Sighing, Steven countered with, "If I cannot figure out my mistake, I won't have a reason to invite you back."

Heidi struggle hard not to smile as she took another sip of tea. She sipped again just to prove to the young man that vampires could eat and drink for pleasure—though few ever did. "Very well, I'll give you a clue if it grants me a return invitation."

Steven nodded reluctantly.

"Your mistake involves the main ingredient."

"Main ingredient? Do you mean the tea or what I added to it, like the milk?" The man sniffed the milk, peering up at Heidi in hope of a further clue.

"You have some research ahead of you. I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Steven fell back against his chair as he continued studying the table.

In the subsequent silence, Heidi pinched a sugar cube and dipped the corner into her tea. The liquid drew up into the cube, turning the sugar a dark brown. She then dropped the cube into the tea, taking her spoon to begin stirring in the added sugar. Her hand hovered over the cup as she moved her spoon in slow, graceful figure eights.

Steven watched with growing interest as the woman continued stirring. He became lost in the moment.

"Steven?"

"What?" The young man straightened.

"What was the real reason you asked me here? It couldn't have been about tea."

Inhaling deeply, Steven gnawed on his lip until he asked, "Do you think your bosses might reconsider letting me go? I've kept my promise to remain silent. I will never betray them."

"They have made up their mind, and they rarely overturn their decisions. They want you to be part of the Volturi."

"Do they really think I have a power? I don't. Trust me, I'm nobody."

"There is something different about you. Even I'm certain of that. We all are."

Steven rubbed his tired face. "Can you just ask them…please?"

"I will," replied Heidi with an air of complacency. "I'll even remind them how you've kept your word. That is all I can do."

With welling eyes, Steven turned to stare at a spot on the wall. The stress in his voice seeped through as he spoke. "I can barely function at work."

"I'm sorry." Heidi waited for the man to look at her, which he could not. "Are you open to joining us at all?"

Steven subtly shook his head. "I will not kill to save my own life."

"You could live off deer, cattle, or other large game."

Again, the young man shook his head. "I wouldn't like that." Steven looked at the woman. "Besides, don't you naturally crave human blood?"

"Yes."

"Then living off other large mammals would be living a lie. You don't simply ignore who you are. It's foolish to think so."

Heidi smiled.

"What?"

"You're wise for someone in their late twenties."

"I'm a pacifist," countered Steven with a half shrug. "It's who I am, and who I want to remain."

Focusing on the other ambient sounds in the apartment, the faint sounds easily detected by her vampire hearing, Heidi centered on the rhythmic dripping coming from Steven's shower. It somehow reminded her of the rhythmic pounding of her father's hammer so many centuries ago in the heart of Europe, lands now called Germany.

"Steven," began Heidi before pausing to clear her throat, "if there is anything I can do for you, just ask. Despite what has fallen upon you, I don't want to be your enemy."

Steven held up his hand for display, showing his guest the constant, faint trembling. He stared at his arm as if attempting to will his muscles to steady, which they did not. He then tucked the shaking hand under his thigh and asked, "Can you get me drugs?"

"You don't take drugs?"

"Not the street kind, but I want anxiety medicine. The doctors in my hospital rarely prescribe it anymore, claiming that they are addictive. They're addictive because they work."

Heidi huffed with bemusement. "Makes sense" After a brief pause, in which she found herself perplexed by the man's request, she said, "I can try to find you something, but I've never had to seek out a prescription medicine before."

"Never?"

"We vampires don't need them. Even if we did, they have no effect on our bodies."

"How about the illegal stuff."

"Same. No effect."

Steven considered the implications. "Don't you ever get a headache?"

"Only when I tease Jane about having to shop in the teens clothing department."

"Huh?"

"Her gift is pain, remember?"

"Ah right." Steven then asked, "So...her pain goes away as soon as she decides to stop torturing you?"

"Pretty much," replied Heidi as she sipped her tea once more. "I haven't had a cold in over 500 years. You should factor that benefit into your considerations."

Steven frowned. "No thank you."

A faint smile came to Heidi. "You never have to exercise. You'll always be in top physical shape."

Steven ignored her sales pitch.

"You never need to sleep," she added.

A new look of horror came over the man. "Never?"

"Never?"

"I rarely dream, but I'm pretty sure that I'd miss sleep."

"I don't. I enjoy the extra time not sleeping allows me. When we look at a clock, we are more often looking for the date."

"Can you sleep if you wanted to?"

"No," replied Heidi. "However, it is good to meditate from time to time. Meditation helps to sort through your thoughts, to clear your mind."

"I wish I could clear my mind and forget everything, forget you, forget my trip to Italy, forget that _damn_ email that promised me the 'vacation of a lifetime _'._ "

Heidi slowly turned her teacup on the table with her fingers, rotating the cheap porcelain as a method of defusing her tension.

"If I wasn't a pathetic loner," continued Steven, "I probably wouldn't have fallen into your trap."

Seeing how his nose scrunched between sentences, Heidi pondered what she could say to defuse the situation.

Before she could speak, Steven's attention turned to her shoes. "Are those Faragoto shoes?"

"Ferragamo," corrected Heidi. "And no, these are Weitzman. Do you like them?"

"What's so special about them?"

"They cost almost a thousand dollars." She stuck out her foot for inspection.

"So."

"So?"

"That doesn't make them special."

Heidi calmly slid both feet out from beneath the table for inspection. "Look at them. Aren't they gorgeous?"

"I am looking at them," said Steven before giving them another quick glance. "I'm guessing that there are thousands of shoes that look just like those."

With lips pressed tight together, Heidi glared across the table at the insolent man. Her anger began to surface when she said, "Remaining human, you're only one step up from a cockroach. You don't know what you're talking about."

The months of dread and constant fear death allowed Steven to unleash his thoughts without fear of consequence. "Do you? Tell me something interesting about those shoes besides _their pretty_."

"Shut up."

The man's angry stare hardened. "I've seen douche bags who own Ferraris gush about their cars at public car shows. Sure, those machines are nothing more than overpriced, attractive automobiles, but those owners can tell you why those cars are special."

"Really?" Heidi leant forward on her chair. "Do tell."

"The Ferrari owner gushed about the leather for the seats. He said the leather only comes from bulls, bulls raised on a farm without barbwire. Why? So that the leather would not show stretch marks from birthing calves nor have blemishes from bumping into the barbwire. Now that is _INTERESTING!_ Can you tell me anything that remotely interesting about your shoes?"

Heidi glared back at the man. She thought of her vast shoe collection without recalling any stories of the sort. Normally stoic and graceful under pressure, the unexpected emotion she was experiencing began to overwhelm her. She had not felt this way in years, if not centuries. The muscles in her face twitched once, twice. She looked away in attempt to regain control.

Noticing the sudden change in the woman's demeanor, Steven leaned closer for a better look at the woman's face. Sensing her distress, if not the odd look of her dry eyes, he finally asked, "Are you crying."

Heidi inhaled deeply with her face kept hidden. "What do you think?"

"I'm not sure. I don't see any tears."

Between a pair of emotional breaths, the woman blurted out, "Vampires do not produce tears."

"Oh," replied Steven softly, his anger quickly waning. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry!" Heidi turned to face him so sharply that her quick motion startled him back against his seat. "Sorry?" she barked. "If you weren't so selfish, and were paying attention, you would have figured it out. You stupid _TWAT_! Is _that_ British enough for you?"

Heidi stood with such velocity that Steven again startled backward into his chair, nearly tipping over. The woman stepped heavily towards the kitchen sink and proceed to vomit up the small amount of tea she had drank—more forcibly than she would have done in her own apartment. Having left a notable splatter about the sink and counter, she then moved in a swift motion for the main door, exiting the apartment with such force that the heavy metal frame of the apartment door creaked, the swing of the door releasing a gush of wind into the room that caused anything loose to stir. At the slamming of the door, the echo seemed to resonate throughout the building.

Steven inspected the scene with widen eyes. His hands shook at his sides as he rose from his chair to inspect the door. After finding the hinges intact, he abruptly turned for his bathroom to vomit—though not by his volition.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Heidi turned her car for the next chain restaurant, grateful that the vulgar American establishments were clustered relatively close together in the same part of town. When she passed the fourth restaurant, she spotted Steven sitting alone in a windowed booth. She promptly pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine. She collected her phone from the passenger seat, moaning as she remembered Jane's recently sent order. Reluctantly, Heidi forced herself out of her sports car to enter the greasy burger joint. As she approached the door, she saw her reflection in the tall glass windows, wincing at the sight of her athletic shoes and Midwesterner apparel.

Heidi walked directly to Steven's table, ignoring his look of disappoint when he spotted her approaching. With her hands tucked into her innocuous—if not dreadfully boring—winter jacket, she said in a flat, emotionless tone, "Steven, I'm sorry for losing my temper last night. And I'm sorry if I damaged your apartment in anyway. I will financially cover any damages you may have incurred."

Without a hint of emotion, Steven stared back at her, saying in an equally flat tone, "Okay." When Heidi turned to leave, he asked, "Did Jane tell you to apologize?"

Heidi stood motionless with gritted teeth. She turned slowly and said, "Perhaps." Disdaining vague answers as much as lies, she felt compelled to clarify her response with a firm, "Yes."

Something in the way she answered tickled Steven, allowing him to smile. When she once again turned away, he called out, "Wait. You might as well sit."

The woman eyed him for a moment. "Really?"

"Ya. You're the only one I can talk about... _this._ Since learning my fate, I find it difficult being alone."

Heidi slid into the booth, opposite the young man. "Your friend, Dee, is worried about you."

Having returned to his greasy fries, Steven's head rose with concern.

"Don't worry," Heidi said. "I promise to never hurt your friend or use her as a bargaining chip."

Sensing the opportunity to twist her promise, Steven said, "If you kill me, or turn me against my will, you will be hurting my friend."

The muscles in the Heidi's face tensed, briefly. "Okay. I promise you that I will never intentionally hurt your friend...while you are human. Ultimately, the choice is yours. And when all is said and done, if your friend truly ends up being hurt, I'll send her flowers. Happy now?"

Though his face did betray it, the rewording of her promise amused him. "Sure," he said, returning to his fries.

Heidi sat quietly with suppress revulsion as she watched the man dip the salty fried strips of potato into a sugary processed tomato sauce. If she inhaled too deeply, the vinegar in the tomato sauce burned her olfactory neurons. Looking about, she found scattered about the restaurant a dozen or so people sitting alone, their shoulders slumped over soft bellies as most stared at smartphones as they ate.

Steven reached for his greasy burger and noticed the disgusted look on the woman's face as he lifted abomination towards his mouth. "You can leave if you want. I won't do anything stupid." When Heidi's eyes focused on the hamburger, her look of disgust almost made him laugh aloud. "How can this be more disgusting than what you eat?"

"I don't know. It just is."

Steven took a large bite, moaning his approval as Heidi rolled her eyes; however, he could not help but wonder as he chewed what it would be like to be in Heidi's shoes, non-figuratively of course. He swallowed his bite of food before taking a small sip of soda. "What do you experience when you... _eat_?"

Heidi stared at him for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"I mean...does...what you need to live even taste good?"

Heidi turned to stare through the window at the passing traffic. Having taken her feedings for granted, she never once had to describe the sensation to a human. Shrugging, she tried to answer his question. "It's a good sensation, just like feeding any hunger, probably much like what you are experiencing now."

"It cannot be the same."

"I don't know why not."

Steven lifted a potato fry. "I experience different textures, tastes, and spices in my variety of food. You've said that you rarely eat human food, so that leaves one food source, one texture, one taste."

Her eyes drifted between the different foods on the man's lunch tray. She shrugged a second time and said, "I don't know what to tell you."

"We've all tasted our own blood at some point; I can clearly remember the salty taste. It was never anything I thought pleasant, so I assume it tastes different for you. If you truly focus on it, tell me what you experience."

"We need it to live," began Heidi. "It's our only hunger." The woman began to recall her last feeding in the Twin Cities. "It's a powerful hunger. So powerful that you don't dare feed until you are alone. You must be certain you won't be disturbed."

"Why?"

"Once you start, you will not stop feeding until...the source is drained. The _lust_ of the feeding takes over your mind and body." Heidi dug deep into her memories. "I don't think that I've ever stopped in the middle of one."

Steven sensed a change in Heidi's voice. He thought that she spoke from a different world, somewhere far away where fairies lurk in shadows, to a place where hungry beasts linger beneath murky waters. His hand holding the potato fry began to shake. He dropped the fry back onto its pile before sliding both hands out of sight under the table.

"And for the actual taste," the woman continued as she closed her eyes. "The taste is...it's the only thing that matters. It is not salty, nor is it sweet. The taste is like water on a hot summer day. It's a most solemn taste, something beyond description."

When Heidi reopened her eyes, Steven felt as if he was staring into the eyes of the great hunter Artemis, a sensation that set all the tiny hairs on his forearm and neck to stand on end.

Heidi too realized the change to her demeanor before turning her face towards the window. "Sorry," she said as her gaze settled on pedestrians across the street.

"No," said Steven, who unexpectedly found his mouth dry. He quickly sipped from his soda before saying, "I couldn't have received a more honest explanation. Thank you."

"I suppose my description did little to convince you to join our family?"

"No. I'm pretty fond of pizza and burgers." Having become slightly accustomed to the tragic fate befallen him, Steven could now sit back and smile at the woman. He knew he would cry like a child when his day came, but at this moment, he could take pride of his non-wavering beliefs—to some, a tiny act of bravery. "My goal in life is to live it without hurting anyone. I don't want to be powerful or rich. All I want is to do good and to be remembered as kind."

Also becoming more at ease, Heidi leaned against the plastic booth, one arm coming to rest upon the backrest. "We do good."

"How?" asked Steven before returning to his meal.

"We hunt down and catch rogue... _people_ , those of the same _ancestry_ as me, untamed ones that hunt indiscriminately, who risk exposing us to the public."

"That sounds like more self-preservation."

"Is it?" said Heidi. "We don't allow indiscriminate hunting."

"You hunted me."

Heidi fell silent. Eventually, her lips twisted as she carefully thought out her response. "Well, yes, but our search algorithm just happened to select you. My software has to send out a large number or emails to get the desired number of responses. If we ran the computer program again, you would most likely be skipped."

"Are you sure?"

With a miffed look, Heidi confessed with a simple, "No."

As Steven finished his last bite of hamburger, he began to contemplate from where the cow had recently been grazing. He looked up at Heidi and asked, "Who was your last—" Checking his words, Steven glanced around before adding, "You know; when you went to the Twin Cities."

"A male. Probably early 40s."

"Did you learn his name?"

"No," replied Heidi. "Do you think your hamburger had a name? Maybe you just ate Jennifer?"

"Jennifer?" repeated Steven with a hint of amusement. "Don't you mean Betsy?"

"I don't know. Does it matter?" chided the woman.

"No. Sorry."

Heidi crossed her arms as Steven's eyes flitted away. She sighed and said, "He was a drug dealer, if not also a pimp. He won't be missed."

Steven's curiosity had to be satisfied. "How? Where?"

"He was lingering a couple blocks from a small gathering of street prostitutes. I approached the man and asked if he was selling. He said yes, so I asked him to follow me to a spot by the river, a spot I had already deemed safe so not to be disturbed. When I was done, I slipped the body into the water after adding a couple knife wounds that would explain the large loss of blood. I then returned to my car."

Steven reached for a napkin. "You make it sound so simple."

"It is. I've had centuries of practice, though modern surveillance sometimes can force alterations to one's plan."

Steven glanced at one of the security cameras in the restaurant. "I suppose every inch of the earth will someday be under the government's eye."

"Let's hope not," said Heidi with a sneer. Her eyes then widened with a thought. "Oh, I almost forgot." She removed a prescription pill bottle and set it on the table. "Here. These are for you."

Steven picked up the bottle to find anxiety medicine—the label revealing a stranger's name. "Where'd you get these?"

"A dealer. When I first arrived in Fargo, I tracked down most of the drug dealers in case I ever have a…hunger emergency. If a dealer should go missing, the police most often assume one of the others took him out."

Surveying the restaurant, Steven saw no interested parties looking in their direction and proceeded to open the bottle. Recognizing the pills by their familiar shape and markings, he removed one pill and promptly placed it in his mouth. He then reached for his soda to wash it down. Knowing the sensation that would soon wash over him within the next thirty minutes, he exhaled long and slow before saying wholeheartedly, "Thank you."

"Your welcome." Heidi could sense the young man's sincerity and became intrigued. "Are those pills that effective for you?"

"Yes. Can you get me some Soma?"

Heidi stared across the table with genuine perplexity. "Are you a junkie?"

"No," said Steven in defensive tone. "That medicine is just so hard to find these days. The doctors always prescribe new alternatives that barely work." Steven gripped the pill bottle with both hands, his elbows pulled close to his body. "I've heard that only people in Hollywood and Mexico can now get their hands on the good muscle relaxers."

"You're a junkie."

"No I'm not."

"You are."

"No," said Steven. "I'm...dying. Remember?"

Heidi relented with a long sigh, tired of the subject. She then began to recall the previous night's events at Steven's apartment. "I feel bad for what I did to your sink last night. Normally, I don't do… _that_ in quite that manner."

Steven smiled. "Are there other ways to vomit?"

"No, but when we empty our stomachs of human food, we do it more subtly in the bathroom, avoiding the splatter."

"I see." This forced Steven to recall the wide scatter of tea he had to clean from his counter and walls. "Well, thankfully it was only tea."

"Can I send a maid over to clean your apartment?"

"That's okay," replied Steven reaching for his soda. "I don't need it."

"Oh, it's not for you."

Staring across the table, Steven finished his drink as a loud sucking sound emanated from his empty cup. He swallowed slowly and asked, "Is that vampire humor?"

Heidi pondered her answer before replying with, "Yes. Yes it is."

Sighing, Steven began preparing his tray to leave, whispering, "Ya. I'm pretty sure I'm not cut out to be a vampire. I want to do good in this world."

"You can still do good as one of us. Think about it; you'll have ample time to make the world a better place. However, I can safely say it's a futile goal."

Steven shook his head as he prepared to scoot out of the booth.

"Wait," said Heidi, raising her hands. "I'll prove it."

"How?"

Heidi's mind raced with ideas— none of which helped humans. Sensing Steven's impatience, she inhaled deeply as the answer became evident. "I'll save a human life."

"You? Save a human? Isn't that going against your nature?"

"No. See, you mistakenly think we hunt indiscriminately. We don't"

Steven bit his lip as he cautiously eyed the woman.

"Okay. Let's make a bet. If I fail, what do you want as your prize? Besides the obvious."

Steven pondered his options. Within a matter of seconds, he said, "I want you to leave Minnesota and never come back. Your bosses can send someone else to finish me. When they do, I don't want to see it coming."

Heidi frowned. "Kind of harsh isn't it?"

"That's what I want."

"Okay. And if I win, I want..." Heidi slowly studied restaurant lobby when her attention promptly returned to Steven. "If I save a life, you'll have to give me something."

"Give you what?"

"I'll tell you when I win."

"That's ridiculous."

"It's what I want. Don't worry, the thing I want doesn't involve dying or ascension. It doesn't even involve strangers. What I want is quite simple really. Won't cost you a dime or a drop of blood."

"Fine," Steven said. "How do we settle this bet?"

"We'll let the person I save settle it." Smiling, Heidi slid out of the booth and proceeded across the lobby of the restaurant towards a solitary woman sitting at a small table.

Leaving his tray behind, Steven hurriedly slid out of the booth to follow Heidi as she approached the innocent person.

Heidi gently tapped the middle-aged woman on the shoulder and said, "Excuse me, miss, but would you kindly listen to what I'm about to tell you."

The startled woman looked up, immediately returning to a relax state as Heidi's enchantment took hold. Lowering her guard, the woman said, "Oh, yes of course, dear. How can I help you?"

Steven studied the woman's face and said in a whisper, "You're using your persuasion. That's cheating."

Hushing Steven, Heidi returned her attention to the woman. "I've noticed some symptoms in you that you may not be aware of."

"You have?" asked the woman.

"Your swallowing has changed during the last few months; hasn't it?"

The woman touched her throat. "I had a bad cold this fall."

Heidi glanced at Steven and then returned her focus to the woman. "I think you have thyroid cancer. Trust me, I know anatomy, and I can see the subtle hints in your neck."

The woman touched her throat with both hands, her expression turning fearful.

Heidi knelt beside the woman. "Would you kindly go to the doctor today for an exam? It would mean a lot to me. I'm sure it's something easily treatable, so don't you become distraught."

Slowly nodding, the woman lowered her hands. "Yes. I should get this checked out."

Heidi patted the woman's hand. "Can you do one more thing for me?"

"Of course, my dear. What is it?"

"After the doctor diagnoses you and gives you your prognosis, could you call my friend here. It's very important to me that you take care of yourself and make a full recovery, okay."

"Okay."

Heidi smiled at the woman, whether the expression being genuine or fake, only Heidi knew. "Do you have pen and paper so that I can give you his name and work number?"

"Yes, of course." The woman removed a pen from her purse, followed by an envelope that served as scratch paper.

Heidi wrote down Steven's name and number, passing the envelope back to the woman. "This is my friend's work number. He works at the hospital in health information, so you can let the doctor speak to him. He'll understand everything the doctor tells him."

"How nice," the woman commented. "I'll be sure to contact your friend."

"Thank you." Heidi stood slowly. "I'll leave you to your lunch now. Take care."

Lightly palpating her neck, the woman gave a parting, "Thank you, dear." Despite the woman's continuous smile, a look of concern filled her eyes.

Steven followed Heidi outside. When they reached her car, he asked, "Did you really see cancer in her neck?"

"Yes. But my sight only helped confirm it." She touched her nose. "This is how I found it."

"You can smell cancer?" asked Steven. "Like some dogs?"

"Yes," replied Heidi with a smirk. "It's only natural. Don't you sniff your food from time to time to see if it's rotten?"

"Ya, but sniffing cancer is kind of creepy."

"I am what I am. I'm fairly certain she has papillary cancer. Easily treatable when caught early."

"Can you detect other forms of cancer?"

"Glandular and blood cancers mostly, sometimes lung. Tumors of the pancreas, brain, and nerve, not so much."

Steven turned back to stare through the large restaurant window. He wondered if he and this stranger had just been deceived in some kind of demonic con game.

Heidi unlocked her car with her key fob. "Just imagine what you could do if you became like me."

Steven turned to her, his brow furled.

"Think about it," continued Heidi; "not only could you help eradicate murderers, rapists, or other sort of scumbags from society, you could go about the city and warn people of their cancers. As a Volturi, you'd be making the world a much better place."

"I'm not about to stop everyone on the street who has cancer. I'd never get home." Steven tucked his cold hands into his winter jacket. "Without your power of persuasion, people would mostly just think I'm nuts. No one would go to their doctor."

"If you're nice to me, I'd consider helping you from time to time. We'll be like Batman and Robin, combating the Joker known as cancer."

"No thanks. I was born human. I will die human. I'm fairly certain this is who I'm supposed to be."

Heidi slid into her car seat. "I was once human too. Things rarely go as planned."

With head bowed, Steven jabbed his foot into the dirty snow.

Heidi frowned as she started her car. "I'm sorry if I make you uncomfortable. I'll leave you alone for a while. Contact me when you hear from that woman. If you want, you can contact me earlier if you have any questions. My ear is always available to you."

"Okay."

"And try to pace yourself with that medicine I gave you."

"Was it expensive?"

"No, but you are." Heidi closed her car door, and as she drove away, she smiled faintly, pleasantly surprised by the day's progress, small it may have been.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Reaching the city park sooner than needed, Jane took the time to enjoy the blistering snow, for winter storms that sent the humans indoors always enticed her outside. She bothered not to pull up her hood when she ventured outside since the sheer white of the falling snow masked her perfect alabaster skin. In the heavy snow, she did not have to worry about security cameras or cell phone pictures. Alone and surrounded by the chaotic peace of blowing snow, the powerful storm broke up the mundane of life, a rare treat for vampires.

Smiling, Jane reached the center of the park and stood patiently beside the bike trail as blowing snow swirled around her, quickly forming early signs of drifting snow around her exposed ankles. With no threat of reflecting sunlight, she had walked through the park with her robe open, her skin free to enjoy the gentle kisses of snowflakes. Filtering out the distant city sounds, Jane began to focus on the sound of each snowflake as it gently came to rest on her head.

Jane had spent a couple weeks observing him, learning his path to and from work, where he shopped, and casually noting when he went to bed each night. She studied his mannerisms as she took notice of his new peculiarities from when they first met a few months prior. No detail, no matter how small, went unnoticed. If this human was going to become unstable and do something stupid, Jane felt certain the time was now with his simmering anger and worsening depression.

Jane's keen vision easily detected the man's single headlight through the seemingly impregnable wall of white snow as the bicycle advanced slowly. As the man pedalled with his head down, she remained motionless, observing how his labored breath emphasized how hard he had to pedal his bicycle through the soft snow. Jane knew that this man could have bicycled a more direct route home to his apartment, but she came to understand that he was a creature of habit—much like herself, and she assumed correctly that this man would not let a simple thing as a snowstorm derail his daily routine.

Steven finally noticed the small out of place figure highlighted by a distant street lamp further down the trail. As he neared, the person's identity became apparent, if not expected. He stopped his mountain bike beside the small figure and pulled down his winter facemask. "Hi, Jane."

"Hello, Steven. How are you?"

"Not dead yet." Steven had worked up a heavy sweat, his deep breaths rising slowly into the air. He pulled back his hood to allow the snowflakes to sooth his reddened face. "Nice night," he said wholeheartedly

"It is," replied Jane with an earnest smiled.

Steven estimated that two inches of snow had come to rest atop Jane's hair. "I take it that you've been standing here for about three hours."

Jane tilted her head forward to let the snow tumble to the ground. "I came out to enjoy the storm as soon as began."

"Is your body always the same temperature as your surroundings?"

Jane nodded subtly. "Yes. We're always the ambient temperature."

"Do you feel different in extreme cold temperatures, say twenty below zero."

"No."

Steven gazed at Jane's barely visible footprints covered by the fresh snow. He sighed nervously as he lifted his gaze. "If you came here for an answer, it's still no."

"You still have time to decide."

"I'm not going to change my mind. Why don't you just let me go? I can keep a secret. I've proved that by now."

"You're too important."

"I'm not."

"You have a gift. It was given to you for a reason."

Swallowing his anger, Steven grimaced before vigorously brushing the snow off his handlebars. "You don't even know what I can do. This is ridiculous. You might as well give up."

Jane's lips twisted into a sneer. "If I give up trying to change your mind, then I'll have to kill you. Do you want me to give up right now?"

Staring into her dark, somber eyes—the lack of amber indicating that she would need to feed soon, the vampire's threat uncomfortably squeezed Steven's insides. No matter how badly he wanted to be brave, he could not prevent himself from officially declining her offer so to retain the precious time the Volturi had given him to decide—even it would mean living for just one more day. Looking away, the man simply bowed his head.

"I didn't think so." Jane reached into her pocket to produce a prescription bottle of medicine. She casually tossed the bottle to Steven. "Heidi thought you might be running low."

Quickly pulling off his winter gloves, Steven identified the same anxiety medicine as before. He smiled uneasily. "Thanks. These help a lot."

"She has also found the Soma you had requested, but I've instructed her not to give it to you. Even I know how dangerous those two medications can be when taken together."

Steven's hint of a smile quickly turned to a frown. "I could just as easily overdose on these."

"Yes," said Jane. "And if you do, Heidi will most likely have ample time to find you and begin your transformation. Any overdoses or other types of suicide will be taken as acceptance to joining the Volturi."

Tucking the medicine into his coat pocket, Steven said with growing frustration, "So if I'm to die, it has to be at your hands, with me being completely sober?"

"Yes. I'm so glad that you understand. Has that woman with cancer called you yet?"

"No." Steven began re-donning his gloves. "I'm hoping that Heidi is lying to me."

"She never lies."

"That is what worries me." Steven forced himself to look Jane in the eyes. "Do you know what she's going to make me do if she wins our bet?"

"No idea, but her imagination is quite good. I look forward to hearing all about it."

"I bet you are." Pulling up his hood, Steven asked in a curt tone, "Is there anything else?"

"No," replied Jane with a painted smile. "As you Minnesotans like to say, _have a nice day._ " The vampire then watched with considerable bemusement as Steven struggled to hurry away on his bicycle through the slippery, wet snow.

Left alone to enjoy the snowstorm, Jane was pleased at what she had found, seeing the young man's buried anger proved that he still had a lust for life. She now only had to address the other side of the equation.

 **...**

Jane entered Heidi's apartment to find her friend resting comfortably in a large leather chair, reading _Wuthering Heights_ , the woman's bare feet pressed against a matching leather footstool. Removing her wet robe, Jane hung the thin garment on the door before taking a seat in a similar looking chair. The small vampire then asked her friend in Italian, "Aren't you going to ask how it went?"

"No," replied Heidi in the same dialect, trying to appear nonchalant. "I don't care."

"If you didn't care, you wouldn't be reading that book. You always read that book when you are nervous."

Heidi closed the novel, resting the old, leather bound book across her lap. "Do I?"

"Yes. Do you still have your first edition of that book?"

"I do. I stored it somewhere safe in Italy. You know I never travel with it." Having put off the topic as long as she could, Heidi sighed and asked, "What did he say to the overdose threat?"

"Not much, but the idea of accidentally overdosing and waking up a vampire seemed to frighten him. He'll probably be more careful. Is he a drunkard?"

"No. He doesn't touch the stuff. You should allow me to give him that muscle relaxant. If he has used it before, I'm sure he'll be fine."

"It's too risky," countered Jane. "If the addictive pathways in his brain are too strong, that addiction could make his conversion more difficult."

"The conversion will cure him of his addictions."

"Yes, but as a new vampire, he could be dangerously unstable while his neural pathways correct themselves."

"We could isolate him," suggested Heidi.

"That could take up to a year. You know how newborns are. The healthier and more stable they are at the time of conversion, the smoother the transition." Jane's lips pressed tight before adding, "Take Bella for example."

Accepting her friend's example, Heidi nodded as she began to smile. "Her transition did go quite smooth. Too bad it did not cure her of C.B.F."

"There is no cure that," added Jane as she shared a rare smile. Her cheerful mood however vanished quickly as she restated her concern. "We cannot risk losing him to an overdose. And I'm not going to have my friend remain here Minnesota for a second year in the hopes of waiting him out. One year is enough time to decide. Either this works or it doesn't. If it appears that he'd rather die than join our family, then give him all the drugs he desires. Make one of the pills more potent if you want. Slipping away in his sleep should make him happy."

Heidi nodded in agreement to the plan. "Okay."

"Besides," continued Jane, "we can't risk losing him now. I don't think I could tolerate you if you have your heart broken."

Heidi's eyes widened as she retorted in a sharp tone, "As if!"

"You know you've crossed that line of obsession."

"I have not," countered Heidi. "He's a puzzle that I need to solve, that's all."

"Since you hate to lie, I'll take those words as a clear sign of denial."

"Take it as you want; I have no interest in that man. He's too young.

"He's almost 30."

"He's still a child compared to me." Heidi traced her fingers across the fine intricacies of the book's leather embossing.

"He's mature and down to earth. Besides, you're not cradle robbing like Edward Cullen. Now that was creepy."

"Edward is a little creepy," repeated Heidi with one raised brow. "I'm surprised Carlisle would not steer him away from emotional teens."

"True," began Jane. "But Steven isn't an overly emotional teen. In fact, he may be quite mature for his adult age. Something tells me that he would be a good friend to both of us if he would only accept his fate. Perhaps, even more to you than me."

Though Jane did not smile, Heidi easily read her friend's roguishness. "Have I told you today that I hate you?"

"Twice."

"Consider this your third."

Jane reclined in her chair, her hardened skin unbothered by her damp clothes. Clasping her hands together over her lap, she announced, "I'm hungry. Have you scouted out any areas to hunt around here?"

"Only a couple. And I have to warn you that this region is only suitable for emergencies. Is your hunger of an emergency nature?"

"No, unfortunately."

Heidi turned to look out her apartment window. Winter storms are perfect for driving fast. We could be in the Twin Cities in just a few hours."

"Okay. Do they have a decent symphony? I'm in need of some good music"

"They do, and it's quite good, as far as being American."

"Then, let's make a weekend of."

Heidi leapt out of her chair and said, "This plan I like. And I have just the shoes."

 **...**

From a city rooftop, the two women surveyed the desolate street below where young scouts on BMX bikes dawdled on opposite street corners, working on behalf of their drug-dealing lieutenants who remained out of sight. A couple blocks away, prostitutes waited for cars to pass slowly, the occasional car coming to a stop as the driver called out their queer, perverted requests.

Having already selected their prey—two drug-dealing thugs who recently brutalized a desperate junkie lacking the needed funds for a cheap fix—the two vampires waited patiently in the shadows for the appropriate time to lure their targets into their trap.

As time slowly passed, Jane studied the steady stream of people flowing through the area to feed their addictions. The pathetic circus of events eventually gave Jane an idea. Keeping her gaze on the sad spectacle below, Jane asked in Italian, "Heidi, is your pet cultured, refined in any way?"

"He's not my pet."

" _Okay_ ," said Jane with a hint of sarcasm. "Is _our_ friend cultured?"

"No," replied Heidi after a lengthy sigh. "I doubt he could recognize a piece of broccoli, or any vegetable beyond the pickle on his hamburger."

"Food won't matter once he's converted. How about music?"

"When I've lingered on his apartment's roof, I've heard him listen mostly to hard rock or metal."

"American or European?"

"European, symphonic metal. I've recognized some Epica and Nightwish amongst his musical choices."

Her mouth twitching, Jane said, "Small as that may be, I'll take that as good news. When you win your cancer bet, make him escort you to the symphony."

Heidi shook her head. "I'm not wasting my win on the symphony."

"What are you going to use it on?"

"I haven't decided, but not that."

On the street below, a car stopped at a corner, close to one of the BMX kids.

Jane watched the quick drug transaction unfold. As buyer and seller speeded away—the car towards a solitude destination of self-destructing, the kid towards a vain attempt of escaping poverty, the sight gave Jane a fresh idea. "Use the Soma."

Stunned by Jane's reversal, Heidi eyed her friend. "What?"

"Use the Soma to get him to the symphony; bait him out of his apartment, take him to a museum, anything. Just don't give him the whole bottle. Give him a couple pills at a time. Him sulking in his apartment will only work against us."

"Okay," said Heidi, quickly seeing the reasoning in her friend's plan.

"Does he collect art?" asked Jane

Heidi huffed in amusement to the question.

"Stupid of me of asking, I know. What about literature?"

Heidi recalled the books she spied on Steven's small bookshelf. "Mostly books of recent history: World War One and Two. Oh, and a very worn copy of _Fifty Shades of Grey._

With a grave look, Jane turned to her friend.

"Kidding," announced Heidi, much to Jane's relief.

"Don't ever do that again. I was prepared to drive back to Fargo and kill him myself it that had been true."

Rare the times Heidi had successfully teased her friend, she triumphantly brushed her hair back with a satisfied look. "He did have a couple books of literature, mostly Hemingway. Oddly enough, he had a copy of Jane Eyre.

Jane turned her attention back to the street. "Hemingway is good news. Only one Bronte book?"

"Only the one."

"Does he know that Emily had sisters?"

"I'll ask."

"Give him a couple pills for each book he reads."

Heidi frowned. "Jane?"

"What?

"Are we going to extend his time to decide? You know he's human and only has about six months remaining. If he's dead set on retaining his humanity, I doubt he'll want to spend his final moments buried in a book."

Jane contemplated the thought for a moment. "Perhaps you correct. You know him better; you decide on how best to proceed with his motivations."

Considering her options, the danger still gave Heidi concern. "I thought you were worried about feeding his misery. Though his two drugs of choice are no threat to his brain, the muscle relaxer could slow his heart."

"Very well, try to keep him physically active. Does he dance?"

Heidi glared disapprovingly at her friend. "No; he doesn't have enough time, and I don't have enough patience."

"Do what you can, start with symphonies and art museums. He seems to like that shiny bicycle of his. Race him through the woods once the snow melts. Unfortunately, this is most we can do at this point. Hopefully self-preservation will win out over his morality."

"I'll have to buy him some clothes for the symphony."

Jane lips curled up. "You were just waiting for an excuse to dress him, weren't you?"

"Shut up." Heidi looked away to hide her smile.

"I'll only ask one more question."

"What?" asked Heidi in mock annoyance.

"Do you know his shoe size?"

"I hate you."

"I'll take that as a yes."

A short time later, with the hint of dawn on the horizon, the slow procession of drug seekers and Johns seemed to have ceased, and the two women understood that their prey would soon be returning to their dilapidated abodes from whence they came. Without needing to say anything to each other, the two vampires began descending the fire escape, eager to complete their hunt.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Half asleep, sitting on the foot of his bed for support, Steven hurriedly donned his sweatpants and last night's shirt from off the floor. When a second knock came from the door, he sighed softly as he stood. He did not have to call out to the person in the hallway since she would probably hear his feet shuffling over the worn carpet. He opened the door to his apartment and proceeded to yawn.

Heidi frowned at her reception. "Happy to see you too."

"Sorry," said Steven before a second, longer yawn made him hold onto the door. "I sleep like a rock when I take anxiety pills at night. I normally use the medicine during the day." Steven stepped aside. "Please, come in."

Heidi waited for the door to close behind her before asking, "Why did you take a pill last night?"

With a faint shrug, Steven replied, "Why do you think?"

"My email?"

"Yes. It's the first time you've emailed me." Steven strolled to his computer desk to retrieve a heavily stained teacup.

Pretending not to notice the filthy cup, Heidi said, "I did promise I'd stay away unless it's important."

"Exactly," said Steven as he began filling his teacup with water, placing it in the microwave. "This is why I took the pill. What bad news do you have for me?"

"Well, it's not life and death."

"Then why didn't you call."

"I prefer talking to people in person."

Steven attempted to rub the medicated grogginess from his eyes. "You know, talking on the phone is pretty close to talking in person."

"No, it's not. Seeing a person's mannerisms, their reactions to your words all make for true conversation. If you can take the time to travel a short distance to talk to someone, the effort makes the conversation more meaningful."

"Have you considered video chat?"

"No," said Heidi, her tone defiant. "Once upon a time, houses had conversations rooms behind their front doors. The living room was located elsewhere in the house. Now, homes just have larger living rooms so that people can ignore one another as they stare at big screen TVs. Now tell me; who are the _mindless_ monsters?"

Deciding to humor his guest, Steven bowed in the manner of an English butler before gesturing to the couch. "Very good, madam. Would the lady care to wait for me in my conversation room? I shall be there shortly with my tea. We can then discuss your matter of interest."

With a twisted smirk, Heidi strolled to the couch while glaring over her shoulder at Steven. She unzipped her winter coat, and without removing the garment, sat in her usual spot on the couch. As she waited for Steven to finish preparing his tea, she gnawed her lip as she fought the urge to smile, thinking to herself, _What a cheeky bastard._

Steven set his microwaved cup of tea upon the coffee table, confessing when his guest eyed the concoction of tea and honey. "My abhorrent tea is easy to make, and I like it. Simple enough; okay?"

Heidi smiled. "I won't fault your bad sense of taste, but you should wash that cup every day. That grime build up is disgusting."

"I wash it...every couple weeks."

Heidi rolled her eyes before subtly shaking her head.

"I think it adds flavor," teased Steven

"Don't," said the disgusted woman with a raised hand. "Make yourself sick if you want to. I don't care."

"I'm pretty sure this isn't going to kill me. What's going to kill me is...is...um…." Having not seen one in years, Steven could not believe his eyes.

Heidi had pulled a plastic bag containing a solitary pill from her winter coat pocket, dangling it in plain sight.

"What's that?" asked Steven.

"Soma." Heidi inspected the pill for a moment. "I'll trade you for it."

"I won't become a vampire. Nothing is that worth that."

"I know. What I want barely requires any effort. All you have to do is keep your eyes open. But if you think this medicine could put you to sleep, then I'll withhold it until you fulfill your part of the bargain."

Sensing a trap, Steven leant forward, resting an elbow upon a knee as he slowly stirred his tea, his eyes continually shifting between the pill and the woman.

"No tricks," added Heidi. "What I want in exchange for this little magical wonder is for you to accompany me to the museum today."

"The museum?"

"Yes."

"I'm not sure I have time today."

Making herself more comfortable, Heidi sunk into the couch, leaving the pill on her lap. "I'm sure you do. What are your plans for today?"

Steven tried to think of a plausible lie, but it was too early in the morning. "How do I know that pill isn't expired?"

Heidi had to hide her excitement since his concern for the drug's expiration date only confirmed her suspicions. "The date on the bottle is recent, filled no more than two months ago."

"The dealer could have swapped bottles."

"No. The pill residue on the inside of the bottle is that of the medicine. The quantity on the label also matches."

Steven stared at the pill on her lap for several seconds, his lust for the little object would have been apparent to even those uninitiated. He looked up the woman and said. "You should let me test it first. If it's real, then I'll go to the museum tomorrow."

"The museum is closed tomorrow."

"Give it to me now, and I'll go with you this afternoon."

"I don't want you half asleep, yawning between art pieces."

"Soma has the opposite effect on me when compared to other people. It perks me up as it relaxes my muscles. I still function as normal."

 _Even better,_ thought Heidi.

"If I had to guess," continued Steven, "I'm so normally wound tight that the muscle relaxant frees me from my introverted self."

"How long has it been?" asked Heidi. "How long since you've last taken this?"

Steven eyes drifted upward as he tried to remember. "Oh, um...four, maybe five years."

"Its pull is still that strong?"

The man grimly nodded. "I remember it as if it was yesterday."

"Good," said Heidi as she stood from the couch. "I'll pick you up at two o'clock. Be downstairs."

Cursing, Steven then sighed his displeasure. "I think you're taking advantage of me."

The woman slid the small plastic bag back into her winter jacket pocket as she proceeded for the door. "I'm very much taking advantage of you." Her smile grew as she opened the door. "Two o'clock."

 **...**

Steven nervously paced a wide circle in his apartment's lobby, counting the square tiles from the door to the carpeted hallway once again. Each time he passed by the large frosted windows, he peered through a small hole scratched out in the frost in search of a certain sports car. He did not want to venture out on this cold winter's day, but he wanted that pill more. The anxiety medicine he took after Heidi's departure that morning had begun to wear off, and of which, his supply was dwindling. As he returned to his pacing, he could feel another hard cry approaching, but he mentally pushed it aside as Heidi coincidently pulled up to the front door.

When Steven entered Heidi's car, he noticed how the door closed with a tight _womp!_ He had never ridden in such a nice car before, having only seen such engineering marvels from a distance at the Fargo car shows. The leather seats felt cold and hard, and he soon noticed his breath vapor inside the car. After a couple seconds, he discovered that the thermostat had been set to cold. His brow rose with curiosity.

Heidi followed his train of thought and quickly reached for the thermostat. "Sorry. I never had a reason to turn it up."

"No problem. You don't feel cold; I get it."

The woman next patted the steering wheel as if the machine were a champion horse. "Do you like it?"

"It's very nice," replied Steven. "Can you tell me anything _interesting_ about it?"

"Of course not," she said, remaining cheerful as she slipped the car back into gear.

"What made you buy it?"

"It's German; it's fast; and it's red."

Steven smiled at her bluntness. "Good enough set of reasons I guess."

Well aware of Steven's love of music, Heidi asked, "Do you mind if I turn up the stereo?" She cranked the knob before her passenger could respond, unleashing the violins of Vivaldi to reverberate loudly through the automobile and beyond.

Steven could not hide his admiration for the sound system. He understood the huge misnomer of term "stereo" when it came to cars, especially _this_ car. As he attempted in vain to find the hidden speakers, he assumed that there had to be at least eight spread fore and aft, if not more. When they arrived at the museum, he made a mental note to look up the number of speakers on the internet once home.

Inside the art museum, Steven's was surprised again, this time, it was more apparent. Steven never realized that a respectable art exhibit existed in the Red River Valley. However, as he began to wander from room to room, no one art piece seemed to grab his attention.

Heidi had taken notice. "Isn't there anything here you like?"

"I like it all," replied Steven. "But nothing in particular is standing out."

At the next painting, Heidi gestured to a scene depicting a rural setting in France. "What does this painting bring to mind?"

The painting's date of completion did not match the period depicted in the imagery, but that did not lessen Steven's appreciation of history, or the grandeur of the painting's countryside. Always fond of nature, Steven studied the landscape, slowly moving his focused to the country folk. "Promise not to laugh," he said after some time.

"Promise."

"I cannot help but wonder what that clothing felt like."

"What do you mean?"

With his winter coat unzipped, Steven pinched his shirt between his fingers. "Was the fabric soft like today's or rough, always scratchy."

Heidi focused on the rural people in the painting. "I don't have much fondness for today's technology, but I will admit that modern fabric is superior. The linen clothes of that time were coarse, but not scratchy. Plus nothing fitted particularly well. Not to mention, there was the smell from the wool and leather outer garments that the people needed during the cold weather months. And the _shoes_. Uncomfortable, dreadful things."

Steven's brow knitted with a new curiosity. Slowly, he turned to Heidi as she had moved to the next painting. "I thought your lot didn't feel pain."

"We don't."

"Why would you say your shoes were uncomfortable?"

"Did I?" Focused on the next painting, she said, "I meant before my conversion."

Steven joined Heidi at the examination of the next painting where he found a scene of ancient Greek ruins. The ruins did not look familiar to anything Steven had studied in history, but he assumed they actually existed, guessing that the grass overgrowth in the painting had been removed for modern tourism.

Heidi had trouble judging Steven's mood, his attitude seemingly wavering to and fro. She asked, "What do you think of when you look at this one?"

"I think," began Steven rather sullen, "I think I want to cry."

Heidi raised her hand to touch the man's shoulder only to stop herself. She lowered her arm, assuming her touch would be unwelcomed. In a whisper, she asked, "Why?"

"I'm tired beyond belief, my soul is tired. I'm sad and lonely, and I'm going to die in a matter of months." To keep his emotions at bay, Steven stared at the Greek ruins in the painting. "But I'm not going to let myself cry. I'm tired of crying; there is no point to it any more. Soon, I will be forgotten like the people who had built that stone temple, which in itself will be forgotten in time."

Keeping her voice low, Heidi asked, "Did you bring your stress medicine?"

"Yes," replied Steven. "I also took a pill before you picked me up. I'm sorry if I'm ruining your outing."

"No. Don't worry about it."

"Maybe I'm just not connecting with any of these more modern paintings."

With lips pressed tight, Heidi considered the other offerings in the museum. She turned to Steven. "What kind of art do you like?"

"I don't know." Steven strolled past a selection of abstract art without stopping. "Not this. I like the classics from Da Vinci's time. Were you alive during that?"

"No. I was born about thirty years after his death."

"That would have been cool to have met him." Steven began rubbing his tight neck as his eyes drifted from painting to painting, as if in search of something in particular. "Modern art is ruined by technology, just like modern music. Look how auto tune and computer enhancements are killing music. The music that rose to the top twenty years ago was sublime. Now there is so much that sounds the same. The world is now drowning in an ocean of mediocrity. It's impossible to find true gems of art, even with the internet."

Heidi leaned close to Steven's ear. "Are you sure you only took the one pill? Your words are starting to slur."

"Ya, I only took one. The other one I took was after you left this morning. I suppose the pills could be overlapping."

"I see."

Steven suddenly turned to the woman. "When did you see your first airplane, in the air, overhead?"

Though a little worried, Heidi found the heavy medicated Steven whimsical, if not downright entertaining. "My first airplane sighting was in France, 1910, I think."

"Were you scared?"

"Why would I be?"

"I don't know. One day it's deemed impossible to fly through the air, and the next, there man is, floating overhead in the sky—like magic."

"Maybe I should take you home." Heidi gently entwined her arm with Steven's to guide him towards the exit.

"I'm sorry," began Steven, "I ruined everything. I always do."

"No worries." Heidi patted his hand in reassurance.

"If only there had been paintings from the masters, art with fine details that took incredible talent to paint. The masters didn't work off digital photographs. Sure, photographs can capture details, but there is magic in a true master's painting. I've never forgotten one gorgeous painting. I think it was some grand canal called dogma."

"You mean 'View of the Grand Canal and the Dogana' by Bernardo Bellotto?"

"Ya. Sure. That sounds familiar. Amongst all the detail, I mostly remember a woman standing on a balcony in a red dress. Her image only took up a tiny fraction of the painting, but she still had enough detail of her own to stand out. The human commitment and talent to create that is astound…astow…wondrous."

Heidi paused before the exit. "You're rambling."

"Am I?"

"Yes. Perhaps we should drive somewhere for some coffee."

"Okay." Steven passed through the exit without a noticeable stagger, but he did not walk as fast as he should. "There were some aircraft paintings from the 1980s that had incredible detail in them. I enjoyed them immensely, but now, when I think back, I now realize that I've never seen an actual painting of an aircraft. They were all reproductions, glorified teenage bedroom posters. What is this world coming to?"

 _What are you coming to,_ thought Heidi as she followed the red-faced man through the parking lot.

Once in her car, Heidi drove west, taking the long way around Fargo-Moorhead. As the deluxe sound system played, the classical music emanating from the many speakers seemed to have a calming effect on Steven—not that he ever truly became animated, but she could now more easily see the wear from the stress of his predicament. She clenched her jaw with the thought, _Why can't you just pick self-preservation like a normal person, you annoying little shi..._

Avoiding the interstate, Heidi drove a slower route south through Fargo as her mind raced for ideas that could improve the winey mortal's mood. She imagined his apartment and all his various interests. Thinking of his bookshelf, his collection of history books gave her an idea. Soon after, she remembered the man's second passion. She reached for the stereo console and began pressing buttons until a familiar European symphonic metal band's music began playing.

Smiling, Steven turned away from passenger window to look at the LED crystal stereo display. "Epica? How'd you know?"

"From time to time, I stroll past your apartment to make sure you are okay. I heard the music."

"Don't you mean that you were making sure that I had not killed myself?"

"Yes," confessed Heidi. "I often heard you playing this one track."

Tilting his head to the side, Steven stared at the woman. "I only listen to music with headphones. Is your hearing that good?"

"Yes."

"Cool." Steven closed his eyes, enjoying the music as he slowly sank into the car's leather seat.

Heidi drove aimlessly through town as the entire album unfolded, all the while listening to the man's steadying heartbeat under the music. As the last song finished, she pulled into a parking spot along a narrow street.

Steven looked up from the console and immediately recognized the oldest section of Fargo. "Why are we here?"

"I thought we'd look at some different art."

Steven surveyed the area once more to discover an art store. "There?" he asked, pointing to the old brick building.

"Yes. Half the building is a gallery; the other half sells art supplies."

With an improved mood, Steven exited the car and followed the woman inside. On his own, he began wandering aimlessly through the darkened gallery, glancing at the numerous art prints—each individually highlighted by a spot light. Occasionally, he detected an authentic painting, usually of North American landscape.

When an "ah hem" came from the other side of the room, he turned to find Heidi smiling at him as she gestured to the wall before her. Steven joined her and immediately became enthralled in the imagery of various military aircraft.

"Do you like?" asked Heidi before gazing up at the prints. "I should have connected your interests of aviation and military history sooner."

"I like it very much," replied Steven as he leaned closer to inspect an art print depicting a World War Two plane resting on the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. His enthusiasm quickly pulled his attention to an art print of a damaged biplane from World War One, a solitary plane returning from exhaustive air combat that probably occurred over one of the massive battlefronts.

Heidi slowly circled around man, studying him as he became lost in the art. "I don't recall if you have a pilot's license," she said.

With a slight shake of the head, Steven replied, "I don't. The powers that govern aviation have raised the bar of entry far too high. I cannot afford it."

"I could pay for your flight lessons."

Steven froze for a brief moment, stunned by the offer; however, an invisible weight seemed to pull on his face. "Thank you, but it's too late to take up an endeavor as such as that."

"Not if you decide to—"

"No," interrupted Steven.

"Well then, you still have time to dip your toe in the water, so to speak."

Steven stepped back from the aviation prints, turning slowly to Heidi. "Thank you again for the offer, but the magical days of aviation have past. You were there when it happened, you must have sense that Wild West mentality at the dawn of flight."

Recalling the time, Heidi could vividly remember the birth of aviation as it spread across the world. "True. If one did need a pilot's license, it was certainly easy to come by."

"And there were almost no rules," added Steven, "no technology to hold your hand. The men and women during those early days of flight were true pioneers."

Heidi gazed at one of the biplane prints. "I also recall a lot of pilots dying."

"That's why they were pioneers. They knew the dangers and they still took the risk. I remember reading about the American Post Office hiring 40 pilots to deliver mail around 1920. After the first year, half the pilots had died in plane crashes. They were literally flying by the seats of their pants back then."

"If you could go back in time to become a pilot, would you go, and when?"

"Of course I would," said Steven, his eyes returning to an aviation print set over southern England, "I'd go to 1930 and learn to become a transport pilot."

"Is this so you could become a fighter pilot when war breaks out a few years later?"

"No," replied Steven. He turned towards the woman and said, "I'd become a transport pilot so that I could deliver aid and supplies to those in need."

Not surprised by the man's answer, Heidi grinned as she slipped her hands into her winter coat. "The devout pacifist, even in face of the Nazi threat?"

"Yes; that's me. Mostly civilians were hurt by all the bombing."

"As a fighter pilot, you could have stopped the bombers."

"No. I probably would have messed up somehow. I'd be content enough flying medicines and other supplies around the..." Losing his train of thought, Steven's mouth hung agape as he stared at a print of a four engine American bomber parked on a British airfield in the midst of a snowstorm during World War Two.

Heidi took notice of his reaction and chose to observe quietly so not to chase away the man's elusive, if not surprisingly enthusiastic, smile.

Several minutes had past when an elderly man with bushy white eyebrows approached the couple. "Can I assist you in anyway?"

Steven pointed to the bomber print. "Is this artist new?"

The old man inspected the label and said, "No. He's an American artist. He has several prints available for order in our catalog."

"He's good. The snow detail blends perfect with the bomber's silver color. This is spectacular."

Heidi asked the old man, "Have you sold many of this print?"

"None I'm afraid. Most aviation collectors prefer their planes in flight. I personally enjoy this one for being different."

The woman's eyes shifted to Steven. "So does he."

"Ah," said the old man. "Shall I package the print for you?"

Steven's eyes widened. He searched for the price and then frowned upon finding the tag. "No. Not today."

Heidi circled behind Steven to hide her face before winking at the old man. "Now I know what to get him for a gift."

Happy to see the potential sale, the old man smiled warmly. "Very good. And what is the occasion?"

"Um," began Steven, caught off guard once again. "I don't know."

Heidi clasped her hands behind her back in mock innocence. "His thirtieth birthday is soon upon us."

"Ah, still young, young enough to get into trouble."

Glimpsing at the mischievous woman, Steven said, "I'm afraid trouble has found me first."

The old man chuckled. "That's the best kind of trouble."

"How so?" asked Steven.

"When trouble finds you, it's not your fault. You say the hell with it and jump in with both feet. Who knows, you might have some fun when all is said and done." The old man's gaze shifted back and forth between his customers. "Do you two have any other questions?"

"No," replied Steven. "Thank you."

The cheerful man departed, leaving Steven to wonder about fate—if such a thing even exists.

 **...**

In the car, Heidi had to tap Steven's leg to get his attention. "Do you want me to stop somewhere so you can purchase one of those stained paper bags full of fat, grease, and salt?"

"Are you referring to my favorite hamburger and fries?"

"Yes," replied the smug woman. "You also seem to enjoy washing the concoction down with a large container of artificially flavored sugar water."

"Ha," said Steven. "You don't know everything. It's a container of artificially flavored corn syrup. I'd be so lucky if it was sugar."

Heidi rolled her eyes. "Well...do you want to stop for food?"

"No. I have leftover pizza at home."

"Yum," said Heidi with emphasized sarcasm. From her jacket pocket, she pulled the small plastic bag containing the one special pill. "Here. Thank you for accompanying me today on our improvised art tour."

Steven took the plastic bag, tore it open, and popped the pill into his mouth, swallowing it dry before grimacing from the bitter taste.

From the corner of her eye, Heidi watched with wonder, saying nothing since Steven had quietly returned to gazing out the passenger window. More surprising, by the time they reached his apartment, she sensed an increase in his heart rate: his pulse had not slowed as it should with a relaxant; his heart seemingly swelled, pumping blood in larger volumes.

With the medicated warmth spreading through his body, Steven reached slowly for his door handle only to pause. He turned to Heidi and said, "For what it's worth, I had fun today."

"Good," she said, taking notice of the man's flush face. "Are you okay with that muscle relaxant?"

"Yes. It's as good as I remember. You don't have to worry."

"Okay."

Steven did feel good. He exited the car, stepping into the brisk winter air completely free of discomfort. He felt immune to the needle like stings of wind-chill as he strolled slowly towards the front door of his apartment. Entering the lobby, he debated adding another anxiety pill to the mix, but chose not to from experience, knowing that he would be wasting the anxiety drug at this point.

There was no danger of overdosing since he had never indulged in cocktails of pills. The thing he had to avoid was his body's acclimation to the Soma. Frequency of that medicine only weakened its potency, which would force him to go cold turkey between weeks of usage. But that was what he did if it meant escaping his shell for just a few hours at a time. Soma freed him from his usual tense feelings and worries; the medicine freed him from himself.

Enjoying this tiny escape, Steven entered his apartment and sprawled out on his couch. He began listening to his favorite music through headphones. Pondering again the concept of fate, thinking how unfair that trouble picked him: a man who women ignored, a typically clean, upright person who would not hurt a spider. He never would have thought fate to be so cruel, nor that it would bear a feminine name.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Despite Steven's assurances that the muscle relaxant posed no danger, Heidi did wonder if the man would use the medicine as an escape, something permanent in nature. She drove home for a change of attire, donning something more apropos for hunting at night, and returned to the apartment building to take up a sentry on the rooftop, just above Steven's window.

Under the cover of early evening darkness, she began peering through his window, perplexed at how the muscle relaxant had an opposite effect on the man's body. It seemed to infuse his soul with a new vigor. Remaining out of sight, she continued to sit on the roof with the growing curiosity of whether his heart would falter once asleep with the combinations of medicines. And despite missing her beloved Italy—and telling herself repeatedly that it did not matter if this annoying human lived or died, she finally accepted that she did care. _Like one would for a cat_ , she reasoned.

When Steven left for work the next morning, she could easily see that the sullen Steven had returned. She also noticed how his shoulders had slumped forward as his head hung lower. From her prior observations, she also took notice at how his gait had slowed to where even a casual observer would notice.

Disguising herself as a morning jogger, Heidi moved swiftly through the city park, arriving at Steven's frequented fast food restaurant well before him. She remained across the street as he ate his typical high fat, high sugar breakfast; however, the small clues to his mental decline were now apparent by with the manner Steven ate, accentuated by his now common tardiness for work as he lingered in the restaurant. Heidi now foresaw what Jane had predicted for this human. If this potential weapon was ever to join the Volturi, she had to reverse his downward spiral.

That evening, she knocked on Steven's apartment door only to be disappointed when the man simply called out "Come in," rather than opening the door for her. She entered his apartment to find the man slumped on his couch, watching hockey on his small flat screen television.

Heidi set a fancy shopping bag on his coffee table, blocking his view of the TV.

"What's that?" he asked, appearing more annoyed than curious.

Heidi took her spot on the couch. "It's your next pill."

Steven glared at the woman. "I know you're blacking mailing me."

"I should hope so," she said. "I haven't been trying to hide it."

With a groan, Steven sat up to look in the bag. He hesitantly removed a shoebox to discover designer shoes inside—ones properly sized for his unusual wide feet. He glared again at the woman. "Did you sneak into my apartment for my shoe size?"

"Yes," answered Heidi with a blasé shrug. "It not that difficult; so shoot me."

"Dress shoes make my feet hurt. The last pair I owned cut into the back of my heel."

"These won't," said Heidi with a confident smile. "Properly designed footwear has the tendency not to harm the wearer, unlike the cheap clothes on which you waste your money."

"And what cheap clothes am I to wear with these fancy shoes? I don't even own a tie."

Heidi nodded over her shoulder to where a coat bag hung from the apartment's doorknob.

Steven fell back into the couch. "I'll do it."

"You don't even know what I'm going to propose."

"Don't care. I want that next pill. The sooner the better."

Disappointed with the man's lack of enthusiasm for his new clothes, Heidi reclined slowly into the worn cushions of the couch and crossed her legs. "I'm taking you to the symphony tomorrow night."

"Fargo has a symphony?"

Hemming, Heidi said with growing annoyance, " _Yes_."

Steven smiled at her curt response. "I would have thought your finer tastes required the New York City's symphony or better."

"Vienna's is my favorite. But for you, we'll start small and work our way up. I may be a classical music snob, but many small symphonies have delighted me. You will find me quite forgiving to the smaller symphonies as long as they play with their heart."

"Okay." And with that simple response, Steven put his feet on the coffee table and returned to watching television. When a fight broke out in the hockey game, Steven reached for the remote and began channel surfing, settling on an old drama depicting the early modern period, a couple centuries before the French Revolution.

Heidi's focus narrowed as her mind recalled the particulars of that century. After a couple minutes, she chuffed at the television.

"What?" asked Steven.

"See the perfectly round holes in the wood?"

Steven had to wait for a few seconds, but the scene soon returned to the object in question, wood siding fastened by nails, the nail heads appearing perfectly round. "Okay. What about them?"

"The nails should be square or rectangle. They didn't start making round nails out wire until much later, around two centuries later."

With a faint smile, Steven began to pay closer attention.

Heidi then waved her hand dismissively at the screen. "They also have the color wrong on that blue dress."

Steven's eyes sharpened on the female actress. "What do you mean?"

"Blue was an incredibly difficult color to produce back then. There is no possible way that dress could have been made out of that shade of blue."

Steven turned to his guest to ask, "During the war, when you lived in England, what was it like to hear thousands of bombers overhead."

"Intoxicating."

"Really? Why?"

"The sound of all those roaring engines overhead seemed to penetrate the landscape. Not even the deaf could ignore it. With my vampire hearing, huge swathes of planes overhead sounded like a symphony of combustion engines. It might be why I always gravitate towards sports cars with a good engine growl."

"Red sports cars," added Steven light heartedly. "What about the new sports cars that use speakers to create an artificial growl?"

"I avoid them completely."

"How many cars do you own?"

"None," replied Heidi. "Hard to keep a low profile in a nice car. People will start to notice, especially if you drive a nice car around the same city for a few decades."

"How do you get around?"

"Easy; on foot at night. During the day, we'll use an inconspicuous car, but we rarely travel by automobile."

The apartment fell quiet as both occupants became lost in thought. As Heidi recalled fondly the early Ferraris, Steven's mind returned to 1940s England. "Who did the Volturi side with during the war?"

"The Volturi sided with the Volturi," replied Heidi with a smug grin.

With a disapproving look, Steven reworded his question, "I figured as much, but your coven must have been hoping for one side to prevail.

"The masters did not concern themselves with the outcome. War has swept over Europe several times. The boundaries will change, sometimes the flags, but people do not. The masters believe human self-destruction is written into their DNA and that the occasional bloodletting is only destiny. In fact, we believe that the world is quite overdue for another bloodletting."

"Did the war that rolled over Italy ever threaten or disrupt the master's lives?"

"No. I had returned from England by this time, and the transition from axis to allies went quite smooth. In fact, the war made our lives quite easy for a time. It's like walking into a grocery store with no one minding the cash registers."

"That's nice," said Steven with a hint of disgust. "I'm happy for you."

"What? We didn't start the war. Humanity doesn't need our help to start any war, never has, never will."

With a heavy sigh, Steven returned his attention to the television. "Can I have another Soma, _please?_ "

"No."

"Why not?"

"You haven't been to the symphony yet?"

"You withholding the medicine could be considered harassment."

"Good," replied Heidi, secretly pleased to hear the anger in Steven's voice. "It beats poking you with a sharp stick."

"Is there anything I could do right now to _earn_ a pill?"

Heidi contemplated the question. "Tell me honestly that you will spend the next few months considering transformation, that you will not blindly choose death."

"No."

Heidi bit her lip. "Okay. Lie to me by saying you'll consider transformation, and I'll give you a pill."

Steven looked at her and resolutely said, "No. I won't even lie about it. I will not become like you, I will not kill people. I will not even kill animals in lieu of humans. That blood lust will always be for human blood. It's stupid to think that killing a deer will ever quell that thirst. If self-destruction is human nature, then feeding on human blood is yours. I want no part of it."

When Steven spoke, Heidi's hand had slowly bunched into a fist. All her fury at that moment had funneled into her clenched hand. She stared so fiercely, with such focus, that one might think she held a small bomb. After a long, drawn out sigh, she barked, "Argggg! God, you're infuriating!"

"Why do you stay here? Kill me and be off to Italy."

"I wish I could."

Afraid of the answer, Steven diverted his gaze when he asked, "Why haven't you tortured me?"

"We would if torture worked," replied the woman with honest sincerity. "Any halfwit knows that torture doesn't work long term. We don't want to convert you if it turns you into our enemy."

"Blackmail me then."

"You have nothing we could use as blackmail."

"My frie—"

Heidi calmly finished his sentence. " _Your friend Dee_. Unless you expose her to our secret, I promise you that we will never harm your friend. You are making the same mistake as everyone else who has dealt with us. You are assuming an evil agenda. That is not who we are."

"Who are you then?"

"Just like you, trying to get by as we ponder daily what it all means. Hell, we even sometimes wonder if we should exist. One thing we do know from our long existences is that we need to stay unseen. If the world should discover us—or the shape shifters—or any of the other things never meant to be discovered, it would be utter chaos. We are hoping your potential gift could help us maintain our anonymity, to keep the supernatural peace. If we're discovered, humans would attempt to hunt us out of existence, but they will fail. The result will be paranoia and constant fear. Society will turns on itself as neighbors accuse one another of being witches or worse. What we are trying to do is keep the status quo."

With reddened cheeks and welling eyes, Steven stared blankly at the television screen. After several deep breaths, he sighed and said in a relenting whisper, "I suppose."

"Steven, I'm on your side. Even if you won't fight for yourself, I will. To be honest, I don't know why I want to help you, but I will. So if I can do anything for you, just ask."

Steven sniffled as he dug in his jeans for a tissue. "Can you use your gift of persuasion to convince me that everything will be okay?"

"If my gift worked on you, we wouldn't be here right now."

"Then lie to me. Convince me the old fashion way."

"You know that I don't lie."

Unable to find a tissue, Steven wiped his nose across his sleeve before brushing his eyes. "Okay. Tell me anything. Tell me a true story from before I was born, something happy."

Heidi thought the man's request valid—if not essential for his mental health. Repositioning herself, she relaxed into the corner of the couch and thought long and hard in search of an event from her past that might infuse life back into the distraught man.

Frustrated that nothing immediately came to mind, she silently began cursing Steven's stubbornness when an equally determined woman came to mind. She looked to Steven and asked, "Would you like to hear the story of Sandra? She was a strong willed individual like you, an English woman who fell in love with a fighter pilot during World War Two."

Steven eyed Heidi with added caution. "Does it have a happy ending?"

"Sort of. Depends on how you look at it."

"So he dies?"

Heidi's tone turned solemn as she said, "There is no such thing as a perfect happy ending, but I think you will approve. It's a _true_ story that very few people have ever heard."

Steven reached for his crumpled dinner napkin from the coffee table. Needing a distraction, he nodded before blowing his nose. "Okay, go on then."

When Heidi closed her eyes, a smile appeared as her memories resurfaced. "I first noticed Sandra on a cloudy, windy day while driving to Chichester. She stood out on the landscape as a solitary, out of place figure in a field, close to Tangmere aerodrome. She wore a long, black dress windswept against her body as her hair shrouded her face. She stood there absolutely still, stiller than the tall grass around her.

"Days later, I drove through that same area and found her standing in nearly the same spot, wearing the same dress. Without the wind, I could see her face more clearly, and her distress became quite clear.

"I turned my car around and returned to that spot. She didn't even see me when I walked up to her. When I introduced myself, she looked at me as if I had been standing there the whole time. I could tell that she was neither vampire nor supernatural, but I still had to ask why she was standing there.

"She said that she was waiting for her fiancé to return, that he was a Hurricane fighter pilot and was overdue to return to the airfield. And as you know, I love fashion and art, so my eyes quickly spotted a tightly clutched glass brooch in her hand. She saw me staring at her jewelry and let me admire it more closely. The brooch was made of glass, heart shaped with a tiny gold flower fixed to the front and a fastener pin set on the back. When I handed the brooch back, she shared that her fiancé's name was Robert.

"As we talked, the woman appeared to be weakening, swaying on her feet. I asked if she wanted to go somewhere to eat, to get out of the late afternoon chill, but she refused. Therefore, I used my persuasion and led her to a local pub where I bought her dinner. She was in such a state that she would not eat, so I again used my persuasion in order to get her to fill her stomach. The color soon returned to her face and she began sharing with me the story of Robert—no persuasion needed here.

"Sandra had enlisted into the Woman's Auxiliary Air Force in 1939 and found herself assigned to Tangmere at the start of the Battle of Britain. As you know, this period of the war was hectic for the pilots and support crews as everyone went through trial by fire. New pilots frequently arrived only to perish within days, many only surviving their first handful of missions. Within a couple months, the Luftwaffe attack on the British aerodromes had brought the exhausted British air force close to their breaking point. The British were running out of pilots, and the ground staff could not repair their bases nor planes fast enough. The RAF need breathing room or else they would suffocate.

"The pinnacle event that saved Britain happened when Winston Churchill ordered Bomber Command to bomb German civilians, guised as retaliatory strike for an accidental residential bombing by a stray German bomber. This infuriated Hitler, who immediately retaliated by bombing London in full force. This in effect, lifted the German attacks on the aerodromes and allowed the RAF to recover. This gave the service men and women the opportunity to crawl out their cockpits and bomb shelters for the first time in months.

"One night during this quasi downtime, Sandra stumbled upon Robert at the pub. Her friends told her not get involved with pilots since they too often never returned from their sorties. But Sandra already had a strong admiration for the young Robert, having learnt about this brave young man when she plotted his patrols on the large map table in the operations room. She knew firsthand the aerodrome's secrets as she plotted the maps and updated squadron information that came in over the wireless. She had watched Robert rise to the level of ace rather quickly with his shooting down of six enemy aircraft by the time they had been formally introduced.

"They began dating and became inseparable during the brief moments they had away from the war. Once, Robert insisted that she accompany her to a crash site of a German bomber that he had shot down that morning. He and a couple of his squad mates had borrowed their squadron leader's car and insisted that Sandra come along to investigate.

"Sandra was not keen to see the wreckage, but she dared not waste an opportunity to spend time with Robert. At the crash site, she simply lingered by the car as the boys dissected their prize. Robert's squadron mates quibbled about how to recover the tail's swastika while Robert, by himself, busily fiddled with a section of damaged windscreen. Sandra watched from afar as Robert pounded away at the screen with a heavy piece of metal until he became satisfied, pocketing some tiny remnants before the entire group of friends headed for the pub for celebratory cheese and beer.

"Sandra did not think again of the crash site until a month later when Robert took her driving. He parked the car at their frequented lookout spot and asked if she would marry him once the war was over. She immediately said yes, and lieu of a ring, she received an object wrapped in a handkerchief. Inside she found the heart shaped glass brooch.

"Robert told her that the pilots called it sweetheart glass. Many of the pilots had begun making these ornaments from the windscreens of shot down German aircraft. Robert had carefully chiseled out the shape of the heart and painstakingly polished the edges until smooth and clear. Afterwards, he recycled from an old piece of jewelry a gold rose that he attached to the front, followed by the pin, which he attached to the back.

"She wore the sweetheart glass everyday under her WAAF uniform as she continued to serve as a plotter in the operations room. She wore the brooch with devotion as she nervously watched Roberts kill total climb to over twenty in the coming months. As it would be, she was wearing the brooch on the day Robert failed to return.

"Robert was last seen flying into a formation of enemy bombers. His wingman had lost contact during their chaotic pass through of the enemy formation. Robert's radio communications had gone silent once the attack had begun. The coastal-watch units reported no sighting of damaged British aircraft limping their way home, nor did they identify any crashes along the coastline.

"The attack on the bomber formation occurred over the channel, close to France; therefore, Robert's commanding officer offered the slight hope that a skilled pilot, like Robert, could have crash landed in France. Perhaps the French resistance had rescued him, perhaps the Germans had captured him, either way, the commanding officer continued to reassure Sandra that Robert could still be alive.

"So Sandra waited. Months passed with no word. When the Red Cross exchanged the names of prisoners of war between the two nations, Roberts name never appeared on the rosters.

"Sandra became despondent. She was given a temporary leave of duty, but all she could do was wait near the aerodrome. Daily, she continued to stand at the edge of the airfield with the hope that his plane would magically appear; however, the pilots began to complain that the sight of her during takeoffs and landings was a bad omen. As a result, her commanding officer regretfully told Sandra to stop lingering near the runway. Sandra then slipped out of sight into a distant field, the spot where I had found her."

Back in Steven's apartment, the man stared blankly at the Heidi. Though motionless, his face betrayed the heavy emotions stirred by listening to Heidi's tale. Swallowing hard, he said, "That was the worse happy ending story ever."

"I'm not done yet," said Heidi. "There is more."

Steven rolled his eyes. "Oh good."

"Shup up and let me finish."

"Finish quickly," Steven insisted.

"Hush, you," snapped Heidi, following her response with a long, side look. Slowly, a faint smile cracked her stern facade, and she continued, "I eventually became good friends with Sandra. But I kept my distance so not to risk exposing my true nature. As far as she knew, I worked for the university, my job to protect the national art trust, which I was—on behalf of the Volturi.

"Sandra's mental health recovered over the next couple months, and she returned to active duty in the WAAF, serving until the end of the war. Years later, she met a very nice man, got married, and started a wonderful family. By the time she gave birth to her first child, the time had come for me to break off all contact with her since she had begun to notice my lack of aging.

"But as the years past, I never forgot the image of Sandra standing in her black dress with the brisk summer winds to her back. I ventured back to the area, hoping to spy from afar only to learn that she had moved. Figuring it for the best, I did not seek her out.

"Then one day, when I was liberating a blue sapphire brooch—from an owner who claimed the jewelry had once belonged to Josephine Bonaparte, the image of Sandra's sweetheart glass flashed in my mind. To me, that sweetheart glass was much more valuable that the blue sapphire, so I set out to find Sandra.

"I discovered that Sandra had passed away just a few years prior. Finding her children, they informed me that anything connected to her wartime service had been donated to the Tangmere museum. So when I arrived at the museum, a cheery old man who had flown in the war greeted me. I asked if he had known Sandra, and his face went pale. Not only did that man fly in Robert's squadron, he had been one of Sandra's closest friends.

"He had also known about Sandra's special sweetheart glass and proceeded to tell me that he too wondered about the trinket's whereabouts. Decades after the war, when he happened to run into Sandra in the street one day, he discovered that Sandra had kept the sweetheart glass. She proceeded to open her blazer, revealing the jewelry pinned to the inside of her coat, over her heart as always. Sandra told her friend that she had worn that brooch every single day of her life, ever since Robert had given it to her. The old man eventually told me that when Sandra died, she had special instructions that the brooch would go to the museum.

"As we were in that museum, I immediately asked the old man where he had put the broach on display. With a hint of regret, he said that the museum had decided not to display the jewelry. It had not been an issued uniform decoration, nor did the museum have a section devoted to things unrelated to aerodrome operations. Therefore, the man put it upon himself and decided that there was only one possible home for it. The man grabbed a set of keys and guided me to a glass enclosure dedicated to British women in uniform. He opened the glass door, stepped inside the enclosure, and began unbuttoning the top few buttons of a dress uniform displayed on the leftmost female manikin. When he peeled back the jacket, the broach could be seen pinned to the jacket's inside, over the heart, just as it had every day of the war.

Heidi paused with a long, reflective sigh. She then waited for Steven to look at her, confessing, "If I wasn't a vampire, that old man would have seen my tears."

Flush with emotion, Steven sat up smartly and asked, "Did you go back later and steal it?"

"No, of course not,' replied Heidi. "That brooch belonged to Sandra, and now it belongs to Britain. It is love that transcended death. I would never liberate something like that."

Steven slowly sunk back into the couch with glassy eyes. "That is a good story. And it's all true?"

"Yes, it's all true," affirmed Heidi. "And the sweetheart glass is still there in that museum, hidden on the manikin. I'd be happy to take you there to see it."

Steven's stunned look promptly turned stern, telling Heidi all she needed to know.

Licking her lips, Heidi added with a smile, "The offer still stands if you want to go tomorrow, as a human. No tricks. I'll pay for the airfare."

Steven's eyes narrowed further.

Heidi crossed her arms in frustration. "Sandra never gave up. She eventually had to accept that Robert's plane would never return. But she didn't let death stop her. She never gave up on her love for that man. There was room in her heart for even the man she eventually did marry, and there was room in her heart for her children; there was room in her heart for all sorts of kindness and joy. And like you, she stuck to her principles. Life is full of unexpected turns, forcing everyone to change. It doesn't mean you have to give up on who you truly are. She never did."

Steven said nothing. He sat staring at the television for a long while until he asked, "What time are you picking me up tomorrow? For the symphony, I mean. I'm not in a mood to fly to England."

"Seven o'clock," said Heidi flatly. With nothing more to say, the woman rose from the couch and exited Steven's apartment.

Returning to her residence, Heidi promptly sent off another text message to Jane to update her on the situation. She then turned on her stereo to listen to her favorite classical music, sitting down for a long session of meditation, her thoughts returning to that long lost friend in the south of England.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

 _I hate you! ! ! ! ! !_

Jane stared at the words stretched across her smartphone screen, identifying the two additional exclamation points since the last message. She had hoped not to return to northern Minnesota, but she now understood that her presence was indeed needed—not for Steven per say, but for her displaced cohort.

Gently setting his glass of wine on the kitchen table, the old priest asked, "Is there something wrong?"

Jane slid her smartphone off to the side. "Perhaps. I may have to return to the new world to eliminate…some...one." Jane froze in anticipation of the priest's reaction.

"If you must," he said in his normal tone before reaching for a small cube of cheese. "Human or vampire?"

Jane smiled. "He could be either by the time I get there. The man in question could either be a sniveling human with a death wish or an angry, rogue vampire who could expose us out of malice."

"I see."

"Cleaning up the mess won't be a problem," continued Jane, "but I need to be there for my friend. Her assignment has put more strain on her than we had predicted." Jane's concerned gaze lowered to the table. "More than I had predicted, I must confess."

"Do you still think he's important?"

Jane looked up at the priest. "Even more so since I've had time to think about our future. Today's world is fire kindling in want of a spark. The resulting fire will not be confined to humans or the supernatural. The conflagration will be a test of all life. Until that moment arrives, I can only prepare: to make my family as strong as possible."

" _Family?"_ said the priest with interest. "You've never used that word before."

Jane smiled faintly at the observation. "The Volturi is the only family I've known, for all these centuries. We keep order among the vampire world, keeping our existence secret. I'm proud of that, I'm proud of those in my coven."

The priest lifted his teacup. "Is this cohesion of your family strong?"

"Yes. Aro makes sure of it."

"How so?"

"Chelsea, first known to the world as Charmion."

The priest's brow knitted with confusion. "I was once told of your master's wife's name, but that doesn't ring a bell.

"Aro's wife is Sulpicia."

"Ah, right."

Jane clasped her hands together atop the table for demonstration. "Chelsea has the ability bond people together. She can even break bonds, which is quite useful in battle. From time to time, Aro has Chelsea tighten our coven's bond with her gift. Aro has told me that my brother and I have been omitted from this ritual."

"Aro trusts you like a daughter?"

"I believe this, yes. He is essentially my father. I also believe that Aro has total faith in our entire coven. Chelsea has told me that he is quite infrequent with this bonding request. She says that we have a natural bond that she only slightly reinforces."

The priest sipped his tea, his brow heavy with contemplation. "And had this young man in the new world not been immune to everyone's gift, Chelsea could have used her talents to bring him into the fold."

"Yes, Father."

The old man gently set down his teacup. "Perhaps this is meant to be. The strongest bonds are forged in friendship. You've told me that you've been trying to develop a friendship with this man. How has that progressed?"

"Slow. Difficult. He doesn't curse us, nor shun us away, but he hasn't really opened up." Jane wrung her hands; her strength in turn causing her vampire skin to scrunch like leather. She tucked her hands under her thighs once she noticed the priest's beguiled observation.

The old man returned his gaze to the tea leaves floating in his cup. "You still have time."

"Not enough I'm afraid. The masters are resolute that this must end soon. They don't like the distraction, nor having one of our own away so long."

The priest bit into his cube of cheese. As he chewed, he studied the remaining half pinched between his fingers. "During my time as a priest, I've seen my share of newborn babies, and of the dying. I've seen many shades of life and death. I truly believe that death is not the end as most fear. Sitting with those at their deathbeds, I have often seen that fear evaporate with their acceptance. Since this young man can see the clock on the wall—if you permit me the metaphor, his subconscious will soon come to terms, well before his mind does. I'm sure you'll have your answer soon."

"I hope so."

The priest gazed with amazement as Jane became statuesque. The old man let a couple minutes silently pass as he waited for her eyelids to blink, which they did not. He clasped his hands together and asked, "Centuries ago, if you had been given the opportunity to choose, would you have chosen vampire?"

Jane smiled at the man, blinking out of trained conversational habit before confessing, "Of course, Father. Being a vampire is a gift."

"Yes yes," chided the priest before waving his finger like a schoolmaster, "but what if you didn't have hindsight. Can you remember your time of human innocence? What would you have chosen?"

"I can remember that time clearly. And like today, the stories of vampires portrayed them as evil, children of the devil. I—" Jane frowned as she began to vividly recall her persecution by her village and subsequent burning at the stake. "I was sentenced to death as a human because people thought I was evil." With a sharpened look, Jane straightened her back as she lifted her head. "I would have chosen vampire even without hindsight. Humanity had turned on me when I was one of their own. I would have embraced anyone who would have accepted me."

"Then your path is fate." The priest placed his final bite of cheese in his mouth and began chewing with pleasure.

Jane glanced at the small dinner plate that had served the cheese cubes, focusing on the ring of cherubs that decorated the edge. She reached out and touched their tiny faces with the tip of her finger. "Father, do you believe in angels?"

"Yes. Perhaps not in the same manner as written in the Bible, but I believe in them nonetheless.

"How so?"

"The universe is life, all of it, even the vacuum of space. We on earth see some of it, but the majority of life is hidden from our simple eyes. In the invisible cloud that shrouds us all, I believe there are angles observing, ready to pick us up when we fall."

"Are they good or evil?" asked Jane.

"Both," replied the priest with a smile. "It's our fear and selfishness that causes separation in the universe. Only when we accept our oneness, like drops of rain temporarily lifted from an ocean of consciousness, can we live free."

Jane pondered the old man's words. She reached for the empty cheese plate, inspecting it slowly as she turned it in her hands. She then held the plate upside down above the table. "Maybe we should just let society tumble back into the ocean. What is the purpose of some of use being segregated, to be prevented from lifting our faces to the sun?"

"That's a valid question, my child."

Jane carefully set the plate back onto the table, right side up. "Father, do you believe in science?"

"You ask as if it's a separate religion."

"Isn't it?" retorted Jane. "The way some scientist say _FACT,_ it leads one to think they were praising a scientific deity with crosses made from scientific rulers and protractors."

"It does sound that way at times, yes. Despite the over exuberance of some academic prima donnas, I do follow science."

"They say billions of years from now the sun will explode, turning the Earth and the other planets in our system into space dust." Jane slowly twiddled with her fingers for a moment when she firmly clasped her hands together. "Do you think God will reveal himself before that day comes? Will God ever explain the earth's purpose?"

"No," answered the priest.

"No?"

"God already has defined our purpose."

"Which is?"

"To ask why."

Jane gaze fell to the table with disappointment.

The priest reached over and patted her clasped hands. "If you don't ask why now, you won't understand the answer when it's presented to you upon your death. Even vampires are not truly immortal. And since you are sitting in my kitchen, sharing a delightful and thoughtful conversation with me, I'd say you have crossed some kind of threshold and have reached a new awakening."

Jane could not help but smile. "Perhaps"

The priest grasped his teacup with both hands. "Too bad Chelsea wasn't powerful enough to unite the world."

"I don't think she would even if she could. She has no compassion left for humans."

"Why not?"

"Her human story, and subsequent transition, is more frightful than mine. Would you like to hear it?"

The priest's smile was more than enough affirmation.

Jane returned his smile as she began the tale. "Okay, Chelsea grew up in Greece around 1100 B.C. Her father was a renowned drunkard blacksmith in the village. Despite this, she became known for her wisdom and kindness. She was never destined for higher societies, but many of those from the middle classes tried to win her favor."

"That doesn't sound so bad," commented the priest.

"The terrible part of her story involves the town _archon_ , the magistrate. He took an unhealthy notice of her, but he would never let himself marry a lowborn woman; however, the man believed it in his right to _use_ her. The archon and a couple of his servants followed her to the edge of the woods where she often took a small wood cart for the collection of fallen branches and brush for her father's blacksmithing. The archon tried to take her by himself, but she fought off his attack and ran for the road. His two servants caught up with her and helped the archon beat her, tear free her clothing, and pin her to the ground."

The priest's face turned grave with disgust. "Tragic. Tragic."

"That's not the worse part, Father. Chelsea told me that two men on horseback approached but did nothing to stop these three men from raping her. She could see their apathetic faces as she pleaded to them, but rode past doing nothing."

The compassionate, genteel priest felt his face redden with anger—the 3000 years since these events notwithstanding.

"Assuming her all but dead," continued Jane, "the three men dragged her into the forest, leaving her for the wild animals. Her father, the constant drunkard, would never venture out to find her, so the rapists assumed her remains would be consumed well before anyone else would even notice her missing. After moving her wood cart to a random location well out of sight, the monsters returned to the town.

"However, Chelsea still had life in her. She prayed for help, but those prayers went unanswered. Her strong will led her to continue praying. She opened herself to the forest. She listened to the small critters scurrying in the underbrush with the desperate hope that they could help in any way. She even wished for a wolf to appear, hoping against hope that the animal would venture out of the woods and howl at a passerby on the road, to draw someone to her location. She prayed and prayed, but nothing happened until she noticed the crows gathering in the trees overhead. The crows made a frantic, loud cawing noise. They flapped their wings, jumping from branch to branch in a distraught commotion. She thought the birds had become upset at what had happened to her; ultimately, she simply though she was going mad as she lost her strength. She pleaded for help one more time, even pleading to the crows as she prepared to die, her soul now for the forest to take."

Eagerly anticipating the next chapter in the story, the priest leaned forward. "The crows helped her?"

"Yes," replied Jane. "Before vampires had to take shelter in the shadows, it was said that the wisest of the masters were at one with nature, they guarded nature, sensing the energy emanating from its greatness."

"Like a tool?"

"No," replied Jane. "Vampires can never control nature; it would be like trying to control a massive river. We simply become… _one_ with it.

"Can you sense nature?"

"Only a little, nothing like my masters. But I'm learning."

"What did nature do for Chelsea?"

"The crows took flight and raced to one of my masters. Though the birds could never explicitly explain what had happened, they conveyed the sense of urgency, that an innocent had been harmed."

"Was it Aro?" asked the priest.

"Yes. My master followed the birds through the forest until the scent of blood led him the rest of the way. When he arrived, various animals had already begun to linger around the woman in a broad, non-threatening circle. Aro entered this circle to find Chelsea clinging to life. My master first considered putting an end to her suffering, but he too sensed her connection to the forest. Aro felt her pull as he sensed a gift. He gripped her hand and read her thoughts with his tactile telepathy. The horrors left inside her mind by those men disgusted him.

"Aro then revealed his true nature to Chelsea. He spoke only truths. He revealed to her his vampirism, and he told her the true cost of become a vampire, telling her in all honesty that he believed her to already be above humans. He invited her to join his family, and she accepted."

Captivated by Chelsea's history, the priest shakily poured the last from his teapot into his cup. He then asked, "Did her gift of bonding people become apparent immediately?"

"No. It can take days or weeks for a gifted one's power to surface. Even when it does, it takes time to master it, just like any skill. It took my brother weeks to master is sensory deprivation. It took me months to fine tune my pain illusion."

"Fascinating," commented the priest. "But that makes perfect sense, adult or child, the brain has to adapt."

"Yes, but Chelsea had more pressing concerns after her conversion. Aro taught her what it meant to be vampire, the risks and rewards, our strengths and weaknesses. Aro taught her everything and then set her free, free to pursue what she wanted most."

"Which was?"

"Vengeance," replied Jane with a telling smile. "Chelsea returned to her village, kidnapped the archon in the dead of night, and strung him up by his own entrails in the very spot she had been left for dead. When the villages found his body, he had been bound between two trees, drain of all his blood, and completely gutted. For the other men who had helped the archon, Chelsea could not remember their faces, so she turned to the crows for help. Father, do you know why the call a flock of crows a _murder_?"

"Poetic license?" guessed the priest.

"Perhaps, but even the earliest poets and scientists recognized the intelligence of crows. Crows never forget a face of someone who has wronged them. They will caw frantically if a successful hunter returns to their area. Moreover, they can recognize evil when they see it. Chelsea soon realized that she could communicate with the crows and pleaded to them for their help in identifying the remaining men, even those passersby who ignored her pleas for help. Chelsea was determined to hunt down every last one of them, no matter the effort.

"The crows were more than happy to help and swept over the village. The town's folk thought the influx of crows peculiar, but most blamed the phenomenon on the weather. The opinions of the townsfolk however began to change when the men began to disappear. Soon, the sight of a murder of crows outside one's window sent the man of the house running for his life. And as the men fled the village, Chelsea was there to greet them, to remind them of their sins. With the help of the crows, she found all the men who had hurt her or had ignored her pleas for help."

In the long pause that followed, the priest asked, "She didn't stop with the initial men who harmed her, did she?"

"No, Father," replied Jane. "The crows had witness the village's darkest secrets. The sins of men are bountiful, from poaching, to murders, to worse. Every young man who had ever done wrong, whether for sport or malice, now feared the caw of a crow. Eventually, even men with the smallest of sins began to flee the village.

"About this same time, Chelsea began to understand her power. Not only could she be at one with nature, she found that she could affect relationships between the townsfolk. She could make and break alliances between gangs. With the power of her mind, she could instigate war between two families, and as easily, deliver peace. Her quest for vengeance had honed her skills.

"Her quick mastery of her gift impressed the Volturi, especially Aro. However, at this point of her 'cleansing', Aro asked Chelsea to end her quest for vengeance. In Athens, people had begun to talk openly about the cursed town, and Aro reminded Chelsea how important it was to remain unnoticed.

"In gratitude for saving her life, for giving her the power to dispense justice upon the lowest forms of humanity, she pledged to serve the Volturi for as long as they needed her. She has been a key member of our family for thousands of years, keeping us strong and united during minor times of turmoil, helping us to keep the peace between vampires, devout to keep our presence out of consciousness of humans." Jane folded her hands in her lap, grateful for the chance to share a bit of her coven's history with a friend, to be freed from the weight of secrets—if only for a few minutes.

Much to Jane's surprise, the priest rose slowly from his high stool and leant over the table to kiss her on the forehead in a type of blessing. He returned in his stool and said in Latin, "And the world is better for it. I honestly believe it."

Besides Aro, no other person had ever made Jane feel so proud. She smiled freely, and had she been human, her eyes would have glistened with gratitude—a grace recognized notwithstanding by the wise and observant priest.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Hanging up his work phone, Steven stared blankly ahead at the wall as a strange feeling of numbness swept over him.

Dee had taken notice of Steven's odd tone when he had been speaking on the phone, subtly watching her friend out of concern. When he failed to move—or react to her voice after the call, she gently began tapping his desk for his attention. "Hey Steven, are you okay? Talk to me."

"Um," began Steven still soaking in the news. "Sorry. What?"

"Are you okay?" asked Dee.

"Yes. That was a woman calling me from her doctor's office to inform me that she is expected to make a full recovery from...papillary thyroid cancer."

"Which woman?" asked Dee with growing confusion.

"Oh, um...her name is Peggy."

"Who is she?"

"A stranger."

"Stranger?" Dee scooted her office chair closer. "Why would she be calling you?"

"Because I suggested to her to go to the doctor." Steven's brow knitted as he tried to sort his thoughts. "Um, not me exactly. That woman you met, Heidi, she suggested that the woman get checked. Heidi noticed the odd way the woman was swallowing her food at a restaurant. She then thought she saw a lump. It's complicated."

Dee gave Steven a loaded stare. "So, the two of you have saved the life of a stranger?"

"I guess. The woman even passed the phone to her oncologist to confirm the good news."

"Why would she want to tell you?"

Steven subconsciously began rubbing his thighs. "Um…the woman said she felt compelled to tell me. The woman said she couldn't explain it. Heidi was insistent that she get the lump checked out."

"I see," commented Dee, her inflection signalling that her focus had latched onto other clues—and that she was about to pounce. "So you and Heidi have been seeing a lot of each other?"

Steven's eyes widened. "No."

"No? When was the last time you saw her?"

Steven's cheeks flushed as he forced himself to answer. "Last night."

"Where?"

"In my apartment," replied Steven with sigh. "Trust me. We are just friends. Nothing has happened between us."

Dee slowly shuffled her chair back towards her desk. "And whose fault is that?"

 _Mine!_ thought Steven in his growing frustration. With about six months to live, all his thoughts had recently turned to regret. He glanced at the email saved on his computer, an email he had almost deleted several times, the one that had notified him of the _all expense vacation_ he had won, a contest he did not even remember entering. He was always on the lookout for the next bargain or giveaway, and so Steven had responded with glee with the assumption that he must have entered the contest. Now a few months later, he had to email the same woman who had tricked him into traveling to Italy to tell her that she had won their bet, the same woman who would probably take his life this summer.

Gnawing his lip, Steven wrote a quick email to inform Heidi that she had saved the life of a stranger. He ended the email asking what Heidi wanted as part of their bet.

Heidi's response arrived just after lunch:

 _Come to my apartment after work._

Steven again asked for details.

Within seconds, Heidi responded:

 _Come to my apartment after work! ! ! !_

When Steven inquired again, hinting that she should call him at home that evening, he received no response.

After an unproductive afternoon, Steven headed home with the intention of shutting out the world. He had decided to ignore the woman and drive home for another frozen pizza, flat soda, and boring evening television. But when he approached his apartment complex, he ended up driving past the parking lot and proceeded to cross the Red River into Fargo to visit Heidi. He was very tired of frozen pizza, flat soda, and boring television.

Heidi opened the door with a half-smile. "You're late."

"Kill me," retorted Steven with a full smirk. "Oh wait, you just might."

Once Steven had entered her apartment, Heidi shut the door. "Someone's in a foul mood."

"Sorry." Steven's face scrunched with regret. _Why am I apologizing,_ he began to think.

"No need to apologize," said Heidi. "You have every reason to hate me.

Steven rubbed his tight neck, sensing that his beginning headache would soon simmer into a migraine. Stretching his neck, he froze when he saw Heidi adorning a flowing, emerald-green dress. The clothes seemed out of place in the dead of winter, but they somehow provided a breath of fresh air. He glanced down at her bare feet. "No designer shoes today?"

"I'm not going to wear them in my apartment, silly. No one is going to see them."

"Ah."

"How was work?"

"What?" asked Steven through his growing mixture of pain and confusion.

"How was work?"

Thinking over his day, he shrugged halfheartedly. "Dreadful. Each day is becoming more unbearable as my remaining days tick away."

"Why don't you quit?"

Diverting his gaze, Steven made a confession he had never shared. "I need to see my friend Dee. She's the only person I can talk to. She keeps me grounded, like a big sister."

Heidi softened her tone, adding, "You only have two choices, and both will require you to leave your job."

"Are you trying to cheer me up?"

"Not really. I'm just being honest." Heidi gestured to her kitchen. "Would you like some water? I don't have any food or drink. There might be some left over sugar in the cupboards. If you mix it into a glass of water, you can pretend it's one of your flat sodas."

"Is this victor's sarcasm?"

"No. That comes later," Heidi said with a smug grin.

"Why didn't you answer my email and just tell me what I have to do to fulfil our bet?"

"Because I want to have a proper conversation."

"Email is conversation."

"No it's not." Heidi pointed to her face. "Do you see my annoyed facial expression? Can you hear the annoyed tone in my voice? That is all part of conversation. You don't get any of that in email."

"We could have talked on the phone."

Heidi again pointed to her face.

"You're the craziest woman I've ever met."

Heidi's lips curled on one side. "I think the word you want is eccentric. I'd prefer it if you said I was the most _eccentric_ woman you've ever met."

Steven was going to suggest a more colorful metaphor when an unfinished painting resting on an easel grabbed his attention. He walked past Heidi to stand before an image of windswept trees by a pond.

Heidi moved to his side and asked, "Do you like it?"

Swallowing hard, he said in awe, "Yes. It's incredible. Is this a place you've been to?"

"No, but it is painting I've seen. It's _The Gust of Wind_ by Gustave Courbet. I'm making a perfect reproduction"

"Why?"

"For the fun of it."

Glancing at the woman, Steven could see a certain mischievousness in her eyes. "Are you going to steal the original and replace it with this?"

Heidi's head tilted to the side as she gave a suggestive shrug. "I haven't decided. Sometimes my copies turn out better than the originals. That's the hard part of being a good copyist. Make the fake too good, and they spot it right away. Even Michelangelo knew that. He had forged his share of art in his day."

"How often do you swap paintings?"

"Not often. I can make just as much money on the European black market selling my copies. The actual art we swap out is more for personal reasons of the Volturi."

Steven then turned slowly, surveying Heidi's apartment. The room was a shine to cleanliness. The exquisite furniture still had that newness look about it. Steven approached a couch in the center of the room. Touching the leather, he presumed the adornment cost more than a month's wages. Then, something even more spectacular caught his attention.

Directly in front of the couch, resting on a hard wood bookcase, he found an exorbitant stereo consisting of cathode tubes sticking out of the top. He knew from casual browsing of audiophile web sites that this marvel of technology cost more than his car. His eyes quickly found the equally expensive pair of speakers.

He moved to the hardwood shelf to find an expensive CD player and a collection of classical CDs. When he could not find a vinyl turntable, he turned to Heidi. "I can see that you're an audiophile, but where's your vinyl?"

"Vinyl is for wankers," replied Heidi with ample assuredness. "The needle only pollutes the music with the friction it produces." Heidi reached for her stereo remote and began playing a classical CD. "The best sound comes from CDs, a proper amplifier, and properly built speakers."

As the clean sound filled the room, Steven stood frozen, only managing a simple, "Wow." Slowly, his gaze drifted above the amplifier to a large painting with detailed brush strokes equally mesmerizing. He then realized something most extraordinary. He again turned to Heidi. "No television?"

"No. Television is cancer for the brain."

He began to walk about the room. "No computer?"

"I only use a smartphone. I can type faster with my thumb than any typist with a keyboard."

Steven peered through the open bedroom door. Inside, a double bed fully prepared with earth tone colored bedding highlighted the sparse room. "You said that you don't sleep."

"I don't. Doesn't mean that I don't like having _fun_.

Steven felt his cheeks warm. _Stop it!_ he silently chided himself.

"It's also important for us to keep up appearances." Heidi brushed by the young man, entering her bedroom. "Beds are also a good place for vampires to meditate." She folded back the corner by a pillow to expose a small swath of bedding underneath. "We need to meditate from time to time to let our brain synapses sort themselves out, like they do when you sleep." She next ran her hands over the fabric. "And though our skin can stop a bullet, our heightened sensitivity to touch appreciates a good thread count. Run you fingers over this and tell me what you feel?"

Steven entered the room and touched the exposed sheets. The smoothness caused him to pinch the cloth between his fingers. "Wow," he said with earnest amazement. "What is it made of?"

"Egyptian cotton. Now imagine that feeling with skin that's a 100 times more sensitive."

"I thought you could ignore or even turn off your senses."

"We can. I could meditate on a bed of nails if I wanted, but I _choose_ this and let my skin enjoy it."

From the corner of his eye, Steven next turned to an open closet where the lower portion consisted of custom shelving, every inch of space filled with shoes. He smiled as he approached the collection, picking up a shiny black leather stiletto from the top most shelf. "I take it that these are you pride and joys."

Heidi shrugged.

"Do any of these shoes come with an interesting story?"

"I'm afraid not. They are all new."

Steven approximated the number of pairs and did some quick math in his head. "Probably two years of my wages in here. I only own two pair, three if you count the ones you bought for me."

Heide struggled to keep silent.

Steven carefully returned the stiletto to its designated spot before asking, "What was the first pair of shoes you've ever owned."

After a moment, Heidi said, "My first pair were simple leather sandals...when I was a little girl."

Finding her response oddly simple, Steven asked, "Was this back in the 15th hundreds, when you were still human?"

"Yes. My father was a skilled shoemaker. He would make me the most elaborate shoes. I was the envy of all my friends. My father was so skilled that royalty often commissioned him to make their shoes."

"That must have been an honor."

"It was," said Heidi with a smile, remembering the time fondly. "He used to take me to their halls and castles when he delivered their shoes. I enjoyed seeing glimpses into that finer life. To see those elaborate clothes, to see the art on their walls, I felt like a little mouse stealing a bit of cheese each time I caught a glimpse of something wonderful. Even their servants wore finer clothes than me."

"Did you feel jealous?"

"No. Never. My father was a great man, kind and smart. My mother too. They made sure that I could read and write, very uncommon for families of our station. Most importantly, my parents instilled in me a feeling of contentment, something that money cannot buy. I can honestly say that I was proud being the daughter of a shoemaker."

"What happened to him, your family?"

Heidi's voice turned solemn. "War. As war tends to do, it spread across Europe and killed him. He wasn't a soldier, but when the Schmalkaldic conflict broke out in what is present day Germany, the many local battles turned the country into complete chaos. One of those local conflicts resulted in a change of power. The new ruler did not care for those who were thought to have received favors from the old ruler, so a mob came in the night. They killed my parents. I escaped only to become an orphan of the streets. I barely survived from day to day until one night, a vampire named Hilda noticed my shoes.

"Hilda thought it odd for a beggar like me to wear such nice shoes. She asked if I had stolen them. After I told her my story, she took pity on me and offered to adopt me."

"Did you know it meant becoming a vampire?"

"No," replied Heidi. "Hilda made me wait a couple years until my body would be optimal for vampire accession. Nevertheless, my transition still had repercussions. My rambunctious newborn vampire brain wanted to take a large bite out of the world. I killed indiscriminately. However, with Hilda's guidance, I soon settled down and became one of the sisters of an all-female coven. Meticulously, we took back from the world what was stolen from us. We lived in Hilda's lavish hall, wore the finest clothes; we even had the grandest library. We became the epitome of culture. Unfortunately, we were violating the rules of the Volturi, though we didn't know it at the time."

"How?" asked Steven with growing interest.

"We had not kept a low profile. Don't misunderstand me; we did not reveal our vampire identities, but we did let our lavish lifestyles be the subject of gossip. We revelled in the attention as word spread of being most beautiful women for miles around. We liked it that people knew who we were and that we were well off. We especially liked it when men came to court us. And when some of those men went missing, we anticipated joyfully the resulting witch gossip. The worried priests did not dare approach. Funny enough, the negative gossip didn't seem to stop the men from visiting us.

"Around this time, I discovered my gift of persuasion. I had originally thought that my vampire perfection and womanly charms had wrapped the men around my little finger, but when the police came to investigate the strange disappearance of some prominent men, I began to sense that I could persuade any detective with the simplest of misdirection. My coven and I soon confirmed that I could turn anyone away with the simplest 'would you kindly...'

"Eventually, the stories had become all too frequent and began to spread. This was when the Volturi came to visit us. Hilda apologized and offered her hand to Aro so he could read her thoughts; however, what he found inside her mind condemned us. Aro sentenced us all to death."

"Why?" asked Steven.

"If I had to guess, Hilda had no intention to serve the Volturi. She probably thought she could slip out of town, perhaps leave the continent to set up our coven just as it had been. If she thought she could hide this from Aro, she was wrong. It cost us all our lives."

"But you were spared. Why?"

"My gift," replied Heidi. "He read my thoughts and discovered my gift. He also said that I shone brighter than the rest since my parents had educated me before my conversion. He said I had a _je ne sais quoi._ He offered me a spot in his coven, he promised me prosperity and liberty as long as I remained loyal and aided in keeping vampirism a secret. I also had to let Chelsea bind me to the coven. I easily agreed to his terms."

"Weren't you upset about losing your sisters?"

"Yes, at the time, but Chelsea quelled most of my anger with her gift. And as time passed, I saw that Aro had been correct. Had we continued on our path, the people would have become fed up, flushed us out, and eventually killed us. I grew to respect the masters, and I know they respect me. When I went to Aro years later with a special request, he did not hesitate to grant it."

Steven glanced at the shoes in the closet.

"Yes," said Heidi reading his mind. "Aro allows me to indulge myself with shoes. As long as my purchases are done in moderation, and with cash, I can have the finest shoes from all the corners of the globe."

Steven gazed at the woman with new perspective. "Those shoes are the connection to your father. You are forever bond to the craft that defined the man."

"Yes. I know it's silly."

"It's not silly."

"Are you saying that my shoes are interesting?"

Steven subtly shook his head. "They are just shoes. Not interesting to me at all. However, their meaning makes you _interesting._ You are the most eccentric, interesting woman I've ever met."

Stunned by Steven's words Heidi stared at the man. She had not even shared her father's story fully with Jane, but she had opened herself for reasons unknown to this infuriating human, a man she realized she could not abandon. She said softly, almost in a whisper, "Thank you."

"Your apartment is nice. I'm so glad you don't sleep in a coffin."

Heidi smiled. "Me too." After another long pause, she said with a burst of excitement, "I have a present for you."

Steve could not hide his apprehension since everything this woman ever did for him came with a price. "A present?"

"That's why I wanted you to come to my apartment. Come see."

Heidi led Steven into the living room and gestured for him to sit on the couch. She crossed the room to collect a large rectangle package wrapped in a simple decorative pattern. The shaped reminded Steven of a large flat screen television. She set in on the floor before Steven. "This is for you."

"What's the occasion?"

"Do we need one?" countered Heidi with a smile.

Steven thought he could guess the contents but played along. He easily lifted package and said, "Well, it's too big to be a Soma pill."

"If you're a good boy at the symphony Thursday, you'll get your next Soma pill."

"Is this a framed letter from the masters of the Volturi, granting me a pardon so that I can live out my human life in peace?"

"All right, smartass," said Heidi with a pinched brow. "Just open it."

Tearing the paper down the middle, Steven gazed upon the art print of the World War Two bomber parked at a British aerodrome during a winter storm, the one from the art store. Resting the frame on his thighs, he gazed at scene with growing pleasure. He then looked up at Heidi and said with all honesty, "Thank you. I'll hang it at the foot of my bed."

Heidi snapped her fingers. "That reminds me." She turned for her painting easel and promptly returned with a small plastic shopping bag, setting it on the couch beside Steven. "Don't use a hammer and nail like a savage. I got you proper hooks."

Steven carefully set down the print and peered inside the bag. Inside, he found picture-hanging hooks that simply pressed into sheetrock, skipping the need of wall studs. "How many do I use?"

"Two hooks should be plenty for a picture of that weight."

"Right. Sounds easy enough." In the following silence, his stomach growled with hunger. Feeling as if he had overstayed his welcome, he said, "Sorry. I've got a frozen pizza calling me."

"Well, I shouldn't keep your stomach waiting." Gripping the framed print between her fingers, Heidi carried the framed heavy glass as if it weighed a feather, leading Steven towards the apartment door.

"I can take the print from here," commented Steven. "It should fit in my car easy enough."

When he reached for the art print, Heidi pulled it away. Her smile grew as she set the print on the floor, leaning it against the couch.

"Aren't you giving it to me?" asked Steven.

"I already did," she said. "You only needed to come here to pick up the hangers."

Steven looked at the plastic shopping bag hooked around his wrist. "I don't get it."

"The picture is under your bed. That is where you'll find it."

Steven's eyes turned to the easel. "You copied it?"

"Yes. Like you said: 'Painting should be paintings.' Your painting was easy, and if I may boast, I improved it by adding more details. I hope you'll like it."

Fueled by curiosity, Steven's smile grew. "I'm sure I will. I can't wait to see it."

"Go on then."

"Okay. Thank you again." Steven passed through the door into the hall, already replaying in his head all that had transpired. As the door began to close, Steve spun around with a raised hand. "Wait."

"What?"

"You didn't tell me what I need to do for our bet, for your saving the life of that stranger."

"Ah, right," began Heidi with a devilish grin. "That's easy. You have to kiss me."

Steven stared at her, his empty stomach tying itself into a knot.

"Don't worry. I only want one kiss."

"You want me to kiss you?"

"Am I that repulsing," teased Heidi.

"No. No. But I am."

"No you're not."

"Compared to you, I am. Why would you ever want to kiss me?"

"That's my prerogative. It's what I want, and I don't have to explain it. I won the bet."

"Are you going to try to bite me?"

"No, you fool. It's just a simple kiss."

Steven could not believe her request—no matter how many times she said it. Considering that he had never even shook hands of someone so stunningly charming and intelligent, he thought, _Why not!_ He stepped towards her for the kiss only to find her hand in his face.

"Not now," said Heidi.

"You said I had to kiss you."

"Yes, but not now.

"When?"

"I don't know. I'll tell you when I decide." Grinning, Heidi gently closed the door in Steven's face.

Steven stared at the door for a long hard moment with the thought that he was truly losing his mind. As his headache came rushing back with a vengeance, he turned away and proceeded down the corridor, cursing unceasingly as he began to rub his neck.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Standing in the symphony ticket queue, Heidi stared disapprovingly at Steven as he fidgeted with his sports coat.

He tugged at the buttons one more time when he noticed the woman's perturbed look. "What?"

"It fits you perfect."

"It feels tight."

"It's not," said Heidi, "Just relax and enjoy the evening."

"A Soma would guarantee some relaxation."

"Not a chance. I can tell that you recently took one of your anxiety pills. A Soma now would only guarantee your snoring."

Steven's brow pinched together. "I don't snore."

"Yes, you do."

"And how would you know?"

"I sometimes worry about you accidently overdosing. A couple times, I've sat on the roof above your apartment to make sure that you were safe. You're snoring makes my task quite easily."

"Ya, can't have me dying prematurely. Wouldn't want to ruin your day."

Ignoring Steven's quip, Heidi took her turn at the box office window. Smiling at the young women, Heidi presented her smartphone screen. "Picking up our will-call tickets."

"Very good, ma'am."

Heidi slid her smartphone back into her pocket, asking, "Do you have cancellations or premium seats on hold?"

"I have two," replied the young women, "but I cannot release them for another 20 minutes."

" _Would you kindly_ exchange ours for those?"

The lips of the young woman parted for the expected, 'I'm sorry; I cannot,' when a look of confusion came over her. A second later, the girl said, "I'll just exchange your tickets. No sense making you wait."

"Thank you, dear." Heidi glanced over her shoulder at Steven and winked.

Steven shook his head in dismay. As they passed through the lobby, he asked with a hushed voice, "Can I assume that you always bump yourself up to first class when flying?"

Heidi simply grinned as they walked into the orchestra hall.

 **...**

From the very beginning, the symphony put Steven in a state of shock, for the music completely tantalized him as his mind tried to process all individual sounds coming from the orchestra. Prior to this moment, he had only heard classical music from a pair of speakers. He also owned a superb pair of headphones that flooded his ears with precision sound, but the music he experienced in the hall washed over him. The sound did not come from right and left speakers. The music did not even appear to come from the stage. The music seemed to be everywhere. Perhaps the deluxe seating added to the effect, but Steven was not about the question the science. Although it would pain him to admit it, he already knew that he would have to confess his joy to his executioner sitting beside him.

When the first movement of music concluded, Steven raised his hands to clap only to be prevented by Heidi's quick reflexes.

The woman leaned close to his ear and whispered, "You only applaud at the end."

Steven nodded his understanding, grateful not to be the only one who wanted to break the rule as a smattering of claps broke the silence. He listened to the otherwise polite stillness of the hall as the orchestra quickly prepared for the next movement. When the conductor raised his arms, Steven realized that he still had a hold on Heidi's hand. Trying not to betray any emotion, he slowly let her hand slip from his grip.

When the symphony closed, Steven followed the audience by jumping to his feet and clapping enthusiastically. The experience had surprised him in ways he had not thought possible. The sight of the fervid violinists and the sensation of the thumping percussion made Steven decide well before the conclusion of the concert that he would be returning for a second experience—sincerely hoping that the wonderment of this night could be repeated.

When they exited the hall, Heidi walked in silence, occasionally flashing a telling grin.

Steven's breath condensed in the chilly April air, and he soon had to tuck his cold hands into his front pockets, unable to ignore the woman's glee. "Go ahead and say it."

"Say what?" asked Heidi in mocked ignorance.

" _I told you so_ ," said Steven with a trailing sigh.

"What in particular are you referring to? Me being correct could be so many things."

Steven rolled his eyes as he fought the urge to smile. "You were right about the symphony. I enjoyed it immensely."

"I'm glad." Heidi reached into her pocket to produce a small plastic bag containing the single Soma pill. "Here you go."

Steven took the plastic bag, only to stare at pill as he walked. He then simply tucked the pill into his pocket. Noticing Heidi's somewhat surprised reaction, he said, "I don't need it right now. I'll save it for later."

"Okay."

"Will you be forcing me to the symphony again?"

"Do you want me to force you to go?"

"Maybe," he said unable to hide his enjoyment.

"So, are you the type that prefers to be spanked rather than the one that delivers the blow?"

The unexpected innuendo quickly removed the chill from the spring air as Steven's cheeks flushed. "I'm not going there."

"I'm just teasing," said Heidi.

"I know." After a few steps, he added, "I'm just not used to hearing banter like that coming from an older woman."

Heidi laughed. "Careful now. As far as vampires go, I'm not that old."

With that, Steven disappointingly fell quiet as they continued walking towards the parking lot, his thoughts returning to his unavoidable fate

As they passed a small sports bar, a muscular man and a pair of his friends whistled at Heidi, following the insult with an obligatory catcall. When Heidi raised a middle finger to them, one of the men followed up his comment with "Kitty's got claws."

"Kitty can read a book." Holding her arm straight out as if measuring a child's height, Heidi hollered back. "Your intelligence has to be this high before you can board this ride."

"Oooh. So the dork next to you can read, can he?"

"Yes; and his mouth doesn't move when he does."

Steven reached for Heidi's arm, pushing it down as he whispered, "What are you doing?"

Heidi replied loud enough for everyone to hear. "I'm throwing bananas to the monkeys. Maybe between the three of them, they might be able to peel one."

The three men began walking towards the couple. "You have a mouth on you."

Heidi stopped to glare at the men. "Since you were so considerate to whistle at me, I assumed you wanted to discuss the works of Flaubert and Stendhal."

Steven felt his insides tighten. "Heidi, stop it."

The largest man stepped before Heidi as his two friends flanked their sides. "Yes, Heidi, stop it," the goon repeated.

Heidi spied the man's spotless, canary-yellow American muscle car parked in front of the sports bar. "Let me guess, your mind is too exhausted after fiddling with the unnecessary manual transmission of that so called automobile. Maybe you can save you pennies next time and buy something German.

When one of the men laughed, the car's owner cursed at Heidi.

"Charming," she retorted. "If I had to guess, you probably also have one of those annoyingly loud motorcycles in your garage, the kind that slowly leaks oil and gas onto the cracked concrete floor."

Despite the dim street lighting, Steven's muscles shook so fervently that he felt certain the thugs would have noticed. He did not look at the men, choosing instead to keep his focus on the overly confident woman squaring off with the largest goon.

The man pointed his finger in Heidi's face. Insult American craftsma—"

In a blur, Heidi bent the man's finger back. The loud crack of bone caused all the bystanders to recoil.

As the man cursed, a sudden movement out the corner of Steven's eye made him to instinctively duck, narrowly dodging a sucker punch. Steven turned towards his assailant while raising his hands. "Let's everyone just calm down."

The man cursed at Steven before throwing a second punch, a long jab that graced his head. As Steven stumbled backward, the thug with the broken finger caught Steven's sports coat with his good hand, kneeing him in the side.

With the wind knocked out of him, Steven staggered briefly on his feet before dropping to his knees to watch the third man come up behind Heidi and grab her by the shoulders.

The man with the broken finger growled loudly as he straightened his own digit. After which, he approached Heidi and backhanded her across the face with his good hand.

Heidi stumbled on her feet, but the man holding her prevented her from falling.

The large man then punch her in gut, buckling her over with an ominous grown.

"Heidi!" screamed Steven just his breath returned. As he struggled to return to his feet, Steve spotted his attacker closing in with a kick aimed at his ribs. Spinning away, Steven clutched the stray kick against his chest. He then rolled towards his assailant, twisting the man's knee painfully under him as both tumbled to the ground. Steven lunged onto the man and began punching at his head.

The man fought back, landing a stunning blow to the side of Steven head, a blow that sent the pacifist tumbling backwards with stars in his eyes.

At the sound of Heidi's scream, Steven turned to see one of the men pulling Heidi onto her feet by her hair. Steven then cursed when he spotted his attacker climbing to his feet, limping forward. Hearing Heidi call out in pain, Steven lost all self control. He used his powerful mountain biking legs to kick the limping man in the hip, knocking the thug several feet back in agony. Steven then lunged for Heidi's attackers, tackling the man with the broken finger to the ground. Steven raised a fist to strike, but when the man raised an arm to shield his face, Steven directed his punch downward, landing his fist in the man's gut. He punched repeatedly, feeling the force of his punches grow with each succession.

The goon swiped at Steven's head, making solid enough contact to stun the lad once more. The large man then pulled Steven to the ground, and the two began to wrestle viciously.

Within seconds, Steven found himself pinned as the larger man grabbed his lapels, lifting him briefly before slamming him into the earth. Steven's stunned vision narrowed into tunnel as the giant shadow of a man raised his fist for the deciding blow. A loud crack of bone echoed in the night, followed by a man's scream of agony. Steven's vision quickly focused on the arm dangling above him to find the limb unsettlingly bent in a most unnatural manner.

Over the thug's shoulder, Heidi's blurry face came into view. She yanked on the broken arm like a puppet master, causing the man to scream even louder. She then delivered her final blow across the goon's face, dropping the limp body to the ground as a smile began to appear.

Steven scrambled out from under the man's legs to find all three men lying unconscious on the ground, the goon's broken arm still twisted in a sickly manner. Steven turned to Heidi to find her unharmed except for some unraveled hair and pieces of torn clothing. As Steven gasped for air, he noticed her calm demeanor. "You were never in danger; were you?"

Heidi shrugged just as a police siren blared in the distance. Excitedly, she grabbed Steven's hand and said, "We have to run."

Fueled by adrenaline, Steven tried his utmost to remain at Heidi's side as they ran down the sidewalk before turning into an alleyway. They ran onward, pausing at an intersecting street before searching for police lights. He then sprinted clumsily in toe across the street, his dress shoes sliding at the slightest change of direction.

Heidi then guided Steven onto the university campus, the site that had hosted that night's symphony. As they slowed to a walk, Heidi pull Steven onto a small service path between two darken buildings. Behind one of the buildings, they stopped by a large trash bin just as the police sirens ceased at the location of the unconscious men.

Heidi laughed joyfully as Steven nervously began pacing under a dim light above a backdoor. Heidi looked up at the night sky and sighed. "That was fun."

Steven quickly scanned the windows for any activity before whispering, "Are you insane?"

"What? The police aren't going to catch us."

"Not that. You could have gotten us killed."

Teasingly, Heidi clasped her hands behind her back with mock innocence.

"Fine," continued Steven. "You could have gotten _me_ killed."

Heidi eyes focused on his chest. "I can hear your heart racing. Don't you feel alive?"

"No," replied Steven. "I feel scared. And I suspect that when this adrenaline wears off, every inch of my body is going to hurt like hell."

Her face glowing, Heidi inhaled deeply and said, "But it's soooo intoxicating."

"No. No it isn't. You hurt people. You broke a man's arm."

"That Neanderthal threw the first punch."

"You provoked him. Why?"

"I did it for you."

"Me?"

"Yes. You're miserable."

"I'm miserable because of the death sentence you've condemned me to."

"You were miserable well before meeting me. Why do you think you fell into my tourist trap? Your subconscious death wish led you to me. I don't fish innocent people filled with joy."

"Are you saying I'm not a nice person? I've never picked a fight. I don't even go about saying bad words about people. I haven't done anything."

"You're right," replied Heidi. "You have _NOT_ said or done anything to express your concern for the world. You haven't helped anyone, nor have you been part of a productive group. You are simply waiting to grow old and die. Considering the fact that you are so miserable, it makes _NO SENSE_ that you don't change."

"It's my life."

Heidi stepped forward, slowly pressing her finger into Steven's chest. "And you're wasting it."

"Stop it."

The woman pushed her finger harder into Steven. "Don't you want to live?"

"Just because I'm miserable doesn't mean I want to die."

"There, you said it yourself: you-are-miserable. Why don't you come back with me to Italy? You will live well. I suspect you will prosper as a member of the Volturi."

"Which means I'll have to kill, like a monster."

"We all consume the life around us. We all die."

"Ya. And I'd rather be the one to die than a killer. So, you might as well kill me now."

Heidi stared into the man's eyes. "Do you really want me to kill you? Now? At this moment?"

"Yes."

Heidi poked him harder in the chest.

"Stop it." When Heidi reached to poke him again, Steven swatted her hand away. "I said stop it."

Heidi shoved him with both hands. "So you chose death?"

"Yes."

Again, she shoved him.

"Just kill me."

She shoved him once more, harder. "Live, damn you."

"Kill me."

"Not until your debt is paid."

"What debit?"

"Our bet."

"You mean the kiss?" asked Steven.

"Yes," replied Heidi. "Kiss me now."

"Now?"

"Now!" exclaimed Heidi. Squaring off with Steven, she struggled not to laugh at his hesitation. And when he nervously focused on her lips, she teased him with an overdramatic pout.

Steven swept in for the kiss, his hands hovering timidly close to her hips.

Heidi tried not to laugh when Steven pressed his lips awkwardly against hers; however, her smile eventually broke the kiss. As her composure returned, she fell into a matching rhythm. Letting things happen naturally, the woman waited patiently for Steven's body to press against hers until eventually, his hands began to paw at her.

His lips continued to soften into long, gentle kisses, each kiss a tiny clasp at life. His body temperature began to rise, and despite her vampire lips being nearer to that of air temperature, his heat had begun to transfer to her, the differences becoming unnoticeable. His kisses slowed, becoming more lustful until one hand sought out her breast.

Heidi could feel his excitement as Steven pressed his hips against her. She inched backward until she bumped into the brick wall where she pulled his hips tight against hers before sliding her tongue between his lips.

When Steven felt her tongue, he opened his eyes just as Heidi whispered, " _Yes_." His body trembled from adrenalin and excitement. His eyes darted wildly about the small space as he finally shed his fear. He kissed her again, falling into the sanctuary of her lips.

Heidi easily sensed the man's out of control excitement. She firmly pressed her hand against the front of his pants and watched his body quiver. With a more confirming tone, she whispered again in his ear a long, " _Yesss_." She then pressed her hand against his chest to make him pause long enough so she could pull up her dress, nearly ripping her underwear as she tugged them to the side.

Steven had never done anything this spontaneous before in his life. As he stared at her in a stunned confusion, his consciousness became deaf and dumb—the first victim of lust. When Heidi reached for his belt and began undoing his trousers, he trembled again with excitement.

Heidi pulled him close with another reassuring, "Yes!" And as they kissed, she reached down to guide him. She felt his body quiver as they became one. She continued to kiss him passionately, noticing how he chose to remain still with his hips pressed firmly against her. Her smiled grew, not from the intercourse, but from her conquest. She wrapped one leg around him, squeezing him ever tighter in ways Steven did not think possible.

"Don't move," he pleaded.

But she did. Heidi was in control and reveled every second. She ran her fingers through his scalp, taking a firm grip of his hair. She gently bit his lip before pulling his head to the side to nibble on his ear. She watched with satisfaction as his breath condensed in the cool night air. She then proceeded to move her hips.

Steven shook as his hips withdrew ever so slightly. The small sensation shot up his spine and took over his mind. He pressed against her hoping to regain his composure, but it was too late. He moved against his will, and within seconds, felt his whole body tense as he grunted uncontrollably as he pressed his pelvis against her body.

Heidi continued to hold him close as she listened to his racing heart. When he hinted at pulling away, she wrapped her arms tighter around his torso, whispering one final time, " _yes._ " She held him until his heavy breathing quelled and his heart slowed. When she sensed that the cold air had begun to nip at his exposed skin, she cupped his face for one more kiss before releasing him. "That was some kiss."

Steven scrambled to pull up his pants, looking up at the vacant windows for any onlookers. "I'm sorry."

Heidi straightened her dress. "Sorry for what? Living?"

"I...I don't know. I just got my ass kicked, and then the next moment, I'm kissing a..." When Steven turned to Heidi, he saw the woman in a new light, a change he himself did not understand. "...an amazing woman way above my class." Steven gently touched one of the bruises on the side of his head that had begun to throb. "This might sound a bit crazy, but I can still hear the symphony in my head. I don't know what to think right now."

In the dim light of the alley, Heidi could easily see a growing tremor in the young man's hands and knew his condition was not an effect of the chilly spring air. She gently touched his shoulder to further feel the tremor shooting through his body. She waited for him to look her in the eye and asked, "Did you bring your anxiety medicine?"

"No. I didn't think I'd be experiencing this much fear…and excitement."

"Okay. I'll take you home." Heidi took hold of his arm and began guiding back towards the center of the university campus.

"What about the cops?"

"I'll spot them well before they spot us, okay?"

"Okay."

Heidi escorted Steven back to her car without incident. As she drove, she tried in vain to start several conversations only to have the man fail to respond or trail off mid-sentence while staring out the passenger window. Her concern only grew when Steven paused outside his apartment building to pad frantically at his pockets until he found his newly awarded Soma pill.

Parking around the corner, Heidi climbed onto the apartment rooftop to sit in her usual spot where she would eavesdrop on the distraught man. Settling down, she was prepared to spend the night.

The moon shown bright as a stiff breeze from the prairies swept over the city. If any human had known where to look, they would have found an underdressed woman relaxing in the cool night air as her mahogany hair occasionally floated in the wind. And if they had seen her close up, they would have seen her glowing smile as she stared up at the moon.

Her smile did not come from the adrenaline inducing fight or the spontaneous sex afterwards. Heidi had experienced natural attraction without the use of her gift—something not truly experience since her accession centuries ago, so she assumed. Since Steven had spent the past few months avoiding her, quietly loathing her, she better understood that the events of that evening had occurred not due to her appearance, but of something more. The man had even fought for her—though poorly, if not outright clumsily. He had temporarily brushed aside his pacifist personal and struck another man for her. He even allowed himself to give in to lust. Heidi had not felt like this since…, _Forever_ , she thought.

Despite this rediscovered euphoria, Heidi could not fully reconnect with her former human self. More importantly, the sounds she began to hear from Steven's apartment began to worry her as her vampire ears clearly discerned the sound of crying emanating from the man's bedroom. The sound of his wails did not worry her per se, but her inability to comprehend the cause of those tears nagged her as she soon found her joy incomplete.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Jane entered the master's chamber to find Aro sitting on his modest chair, meditating with his eyes closed. She stopped at the base of the steps and bowed. "Master, you asked to see me?"

Opening his eyes, Aro grinned at his prized guard. "Yes, Jane. I regret to inform you that your friend has requested your presence. You are needed immediately."

Jane nodded. "Things are becoming quite entangled in America. I was planning to join Heidi soon."

With a subtle twitch of his smile, Aro said, "Not that friend."

With a confused look, Jane's thoughts slowly grasped Aro's clues. "The priest?"

"Yes," replied Aro. "My contact in the Vatican relayed a message to me. The priest has fallen ill, and he has requested to see you. He's being cared for at the hospital closest to his parish."

"That you for telling me, Master." Jane's gaze slowly drifted down to the floor.

"Take as much time as you need. I'm sure Heidi can persevere without you for a few more days."

Jane looked up at Aro, her eyes betraying her confusion.

"We are Volturi. We look after our family...and on occasion, our friends. Is he not a loyal friend to you?"

"Yes, Master."

"Then go to his side."

With a simple nod—and a rare hint of worry, Jane turned away and swiftly exited the chamber.

 **...**

In the midst of night, Jane slowly appeared in the doorway of the priest's dimly lit hospital room where the old man appeared to be sleeping comfortably. Jane remained in the doorway, still as any of the furniture in the room, thinking how cruel of God to let people age in this manner.

Only seconds had past when the priest opened his eyes. The old man smiled as soon as he spotted his friend, nodding his head ever so slightly for Jane to join him.

Jane approached with apprehension; however, when the man's hand twitched with his fingers stretching out in her direction, she immediately realized how much she wanted to comfort him. She carefully took hold his hand, leaning towards his ear to whisper. "Can you speak, Father?"

The man licked his dry lips, whispering with some effort, "Yes, but I've lost the use of the rest of my body. A stroke."

"Can they treat it?" asked Jane—all too aware of the answer.

"The doctors stopped the main hemorrhage, but the damage has been done. They say I still a slow growing hematoma consisting of many residual small bleeds that they cannot stop."

"How long do you have?"

"A couple days; probably less. I keep slipping in and out of consciousness."

Jane patted the man's hand. "Are you in pain?"

"No," replied the Priest. He twitched his other hand to reveal a wired button that dispensed painkiller into his intravenous fluid. "The joy of modern medicine."

"Can I do anything for you?"

"You already have. Seeing you one last time was all I could ask for. Thank you, child, for coming."

A nurse entered the room and was startled by the unexpected guest. "Visiting hours have past. I must ask you to leave?"

The cold stare of Jane's dark-red eyes gave the nurse pause. Only when the priest squeezed Jane's hand, did Jane deflect her scorn.

The priest curled his index finger of his other hand, indicating to the nurse to approach. When the nurse leaned in close, he whispered into her ear. The nurse then straightened, gazing at the Jane with wonderment. The priest touched the nurse's hand reassuringly, and the woman proceeded to leave the room.

Jane assumed that some of the nurse's fascination came from her vampire beauty, but she had to wonder why the priest lied to the woman. "So, I'm your great niece?"

The man smiled. "As far as anyone is concerned. You are my last of kin."

"You don't have to do that. Donate you possessions to your parish."

"I have," said the priest weakly. "I just want them to know how much I cherish you."

Jane leaned close to speak softly. "If they knew, they'd call me a monster and hunt me down."

"They'd be wrong," retorted the priest in his slow, drawn out speech. He licked his dry mouth and continued, "You were created for a reason; you are meant for great things."

"Some newborns of my type are no different that wild dogs. How can you say God made me for a reason?"

The old priest smiled like a knowing parent. "Ah, the same can be said for any human. We were both given brains, and we both choose whether or not to educate ourselves, to self-improve. And as you can see, humans just as frequently decide not to evolve. Your kind has, and I believe it is meant to be."

"For what purpose?" asked Jane.

"I don't know, child," replied the priest. "My time has run out. But you were given bountiful time to discover that yourself."

The nurse returned to the room. In her hands, she held a shoe boxed sized object encased inside a red velvet bag. She paused at the foot of the priest's bed and waited for confirmation. When the old man nodded towards Jane, the nursed handed the item over and promptly left the room, closing the door behind her.

Jane weighed the relatively light object in her hands. "What is it?"

"A box," replied the priest.

Jane smiled. "I figured that out." She pulled open the red velvet bag so she could see the wood case inside. The wood appeared very old with ornate carvings decorating the lid. "What's inside?"

"I don't know, but I think it's best that you don't open it here." The priest appeared quite pleased as he watched his friend study the markings.

Jane sniffed the box, detecting an old wood sealant and natural aroma of aged wood. "Don't you want to know what's inside?"

"Not particularly."

"Is it important?"

"Very," replied the priest in an inaudible whisper.

"So, why are you giving it to me?"

Though weak and dying, the man's smile grew with enthusiasm. With forced effort, he said, "Because they don't want your kind to have it."

Jane again studied the carving on the lid, still unable to connect the symbols to anything she had previously encountered. Completely stumped, she turned to the man.

"Those few of us who know of your existence, those now confined to the Vatican, they took it upon themselves to make sure that vampires should never regain possession of what's inside that box."

Jane lifted the box to eye level. "Why didn't they just destroy it?"

"Because I've been told that what's inside can never be destroyed, only contained."

Jane smiled before saying lightheartedly, "Is this Pandora's actual box?"

"Maybe," replied the man with a matching smile.

Jane tapped her fingers on the lid, listing to the hollow thud. "So, if I open this, will something escape?"

"Not exactly," said the priest. "From what little I know, the first priests would only pass the history of that box orally, declaring that any written text in regard to its contents too dangerous. Some believe the first priests intentionally decided not to divulge the contents within the box. The legend says that the first holy men discovered a way to separate something most dangerous into two parts, setting the world onto a path that you see today." The old man slowly tapped the box with his trembling hand. "You are holding half of that object, something that may have affected the entire world. If you truly want to discover what frightened those first priests, you will need the other half to unleash it."

"What other half? Where?" asked Jane with growing intrigue.

"No one is quite sure. The Vatican lost track of the other part centuries ago when they sent it to the new world for safekeeping on one of the many Spanish galleons. They only know that the galleon had successfully crossed the Atlantic. But the men who escorted the object were never seen or heard from again after they had disembarked the ship."

"Is it another box?"

"No. Legend says the second part could only be contained within crystal, one rumor claimed it was time, another light, but neither made any sense to us." The priest's eyes narrowed as he continued. "Another legend, an equally disputed one, asserts that the crystal holds the soul of Adam."

"Do you believe them?"

"No," replied the priest. The old man turned his gazed across the room to a crucifix on the wall. After a long moment, he said, "After meeting you, dear one, I now believe that box contains something most powerful. All I do know is that my people meant to keep both halves out of your possession. Once I gained your friendship, things became clearer for what I must do, so I made one last journey to the Vatican a few weeks ago. Lucky for me, so few of us who know the secret remain; I had no difficulty smuggling that box out."

Jane gently rubbed her hand across the ornately carved lid before looking to her friend. "I still don't understand why you are giving this to me?"

The priest stared blankly across the room, his breathy very slow. After a moment, he licked his lips and said, "They say time gives us wisdom. My wisdom tells me that old men are not nearly as wise as they believe, nor are their decisions contemplated in everyone's best interest. The world is no better off now than when these old men decided to keep whatever is in that box a secret. I'm assuming they made the wrong choice. I've decided to give it back to the world, with your help, of course."

Jane stared intently at the box. "Don't you want to know the secret? How can you not want me to open this now?"

The old priest held out his hand to Jane. "Because I'm about to learn the greatest secret of them all. All else pales in comparison."

Jane set the box on a small side table and took hold of her friend's hand, cupping his broad-knuckled fingers with both of hers. She could smell the faint scent of fear emanating from his pores and began searching for comforting words, only managing to say, "Sorry if my hands are cold."

"They feel fine."

"Are you scared?"

"A little. It's only natural. But as my final grains of sand slip through the hour glass, I find my fear diminishing." The man smiled up at Jane. "What greater mystery is there than death? It must be love, you see. So we need not be afraid when we depart this world."

Jane forced herself to smile. "I don't know. When we become vampire, we often forget how it feels to be frightened. It's our weakness, not fearing."

"We all have weaknesses. It's an essential part that completes us." The man sighed weakly, asking, "Will you pray with me?"

"What prayer do you want me to recite to you?"

"The prayer is not for me."

With a warm, comprehending stare, Jane patted her friend's hand. "I'm not one for prayers. I assumed you knew that."

"Ah, but you used to pray; did you not?"

Jane shrugged. "When I was human. None of my prayers were answered."

"None?" countered the priest, his retort unencumbered by his frailty. "When did you pray the hardest?"

"You know that. When the villagers were burning me alive at the stake. The pain was excruciating."

"And did not your master come and save you?"

"Yes, but I'm fairly certain God did not send him."

"How do you know that, dear child?" The priest shut his eyes and said, "Then I alone will pray for you."

"Why," asked Jane. "Why pray when God doesn't answer them."

The priest slowly opened his eyes to gaze warmly at his friend. "Because our prayers are not for him to answer. He lets us pray so that others may hear them, to find the answers amongst ourselves, to find our way through the darkness with the help of our fellow companions."

Jane listened to the old priest begin his Latin prayers, the priest's Latin more sounding more fluent than his Italian, especially when the words were spiritual in nature. Hearing the old language and the heartfelt inflection in them, Jane soon felt forgotten emotions stir within her, emotions she had pushed down centuries ago.

The man first prayed that the contents within the box would be fruitful for his small friend and that her search for the missing half, a journey she would no doubt have to take, be free of peril, resulting in a better world for all. After a brief pause to catch his breath, the priest added a prayer for Jane's friend and the American, even beseeching that Volturi's pursuits in the young man would be as fruitful, beneficial to even those outside of Jane's coven.

When the priest concluded his prayers with a solemn "amen," Jane affirmed the man's prayer with her own, silent interjection—though hers may not have been in line with the priest's. Ignoring her friend's discerning smile, Jane asked, "Why did you pray for my friend?"

"Because she's your friend, and from what you've told me over the past few months, her task is important. I prayed for the young man because he will ultimately have to choose his fate, neither choice an easy one."

Humbled by this dying man's concerns, Jane fell silent as she recollected the reason why she had stopped befriending these frail humans. Focusing on the man's labored breath, she swallowed hard as she again took hold of the man's frail hand. "Thank you, Father."

"So," began the priest, "how are things going in America."

"We don't need to discuss my problems, Father. Don't you have more pressing concerns? Can I help you with anything?"

"I'm in want of nothing, child. I want to spend my final moments with you."

Though Jane had no need to breath, she inhaled deeply as she tried to sort her unraveling thoughts. "Well, Father, it appears that I will be traveling to America soon. Our young male friend is strong willed."

"Strong willed is good," whispered the priest.

"Perhaps. Heidi thinks that he will choose death over our coven."

"You're afraid that your friend will not be capable of handling the young man if he chooses..."

Jane shook her head. "She will terminate him if it comes to that. I'm worried that the young man has gotten under her skin. She may need my support."

"You mean she may have fallen in love?"

"I assume it's simply lust," countered Jane with a smirk. "For me, one of the benefits of being turned at my young age is that I've been spared from that nonsensical trick of nature. Since I'm free of lust, I can tell you that there is no such thing as love."

"You don't mean that. You know love does not have to be connected to lust."

Jane swallowed hard as the priest squeezed her hand. Being at the bedside of this mortal man, in itself, proved her ideology wrong. With new clarity, the world became much less complicated as she was reminded of the cruel indifference of time.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

Having forsaken praying, Steven now stared at the dark patch of thin river ice. How long he had been standing alone on the frozen river, he knew not, only remembering that he had arrived some time before sunrise after another restless night.

The Red River that divided the cities of Fargo and Moorhead had been frozen for months with a snow-covered surface defaced as custom by snowmobiles, leaving little freshly fallen snow undisturbed. Scattered about the surface of the frozen river, exposed ice glistened in the morning sunlight. Some of the ice had been blown clean by the brisk northern winter winds while other exposed patches of ice were the result of occasional water that had seeped through deep cracks in the ice, often near more turbulent sections of the river where the darkness of the ice indicated its thinness.

Steven ignored the cold air that stung his exposed, unshaven face. His fingers had numbed as a result of the single digit temperatures—despite his good quality winter gloves, and the loss of feeling in his toes had gone almost completely unnoticed. This late February morning was bitterly cold, colder than normal, and yet, Steven worried that it would not be cold enough. His concern was not for the strength of the thin ice; he worried that his eternal sleep would not come soon enough.

His head throbbed, dulled by insomnia and dread. He missed sleep more than anything, and he thought it unimaginable to live without sleep, not to mention a blood lust, be it for human or animal. He could not hurt a spider; he did not want to hurt any living creature. And now, more than anything, he only wanted to sleep, to slip into an indefinite cocoon tucked far away, somewhere deep in the universe where he would not bother anyone, perhaps a place of infinite solitude. _Like a black hole_ , he thought.

Having stood on the river's surface for so long, he had become immune to the common sounds of the city, the distant morning traffic, the occasional snowmobile. He did however notice the intermittent sounds of cracking ice—reverberations that indicated the harmless miniscule shifts along a long crack. Even without snowmobiles, or the occasional automobile, the ice continued to crack spontaneously, just as it would on the lakes where he had grown up. He had forgotten how much he missed the "twang" from a deep crack in the ice at night, 'ice song' as he referred to it.

Steven began to focus on the rest of nature beyond the ice, the large snow crystals blown against his jacket, the faint howling of wind, even the distant singing from birds who braved the long winter months—simple winter elements that were soothing to this child of the cold.

The crunching sound of approaching footsteps however broke his trance. He did not need to turn to know who was approaching, so when the footsteps ceased, Steven held his gaze over the frozen river when he said, "Please leave. I want to be alone."

Heidi stepped around the man to inspect the thin ice directly before him. Her winter jacket unzipped, her hands exposed to the brisk air, she appeared completely unaffected by the harsh weather. "Is this how you plan to end your life?"

"Leave," said Steven without looking up.

"Your friend Dee is worried. She said that you unexpectedly quit your job."

Unable to hide his frustration, Steven retorted, "Wouldn't you if you only had months to live?"

Heidi crossed her arms as she surveyed the white, hazy landscape of windswept snow on both sides of the river. Assured that the wind would mask their conversation against the long throw of winter sound, she turned to Steven. "So, do you have months or minutes to live?"

"Why do you care? Are you worried that my blood might go to waste?"

"No." The woman's discerning stare sharpened. "There is no shortage of blood in this world. But I will have to return to my masters and explain what happened to you. And since Aro can read my thoughts, you might as well kill yourself now so he can see your death first hand through my memories."

A snowmobile travelling along the opposite riverbank swerved unexpectedly towards the couple, stopping yards away from underdressed vampire. The driver's confused expression only reaffirmed the unusual sight unfolding on the barren landscape. The man yelled over the idling engine, "Can I be of any assistance? Do you need help?"

Despite her forced smile, Heidi's eyes betrayed her annoyance as she said, " _Would you kindly,_ go to hell."

The snowmobile rider reacted with a simple nod and said, "Okay. Right away." And without a moment of hesitation, the man revved his snowmobile forward and turned towards the west, quickly climbing the riverbank and disappearing over the ridge as disrupted snow drifted along the bank.

Heidi stood patiently still, unaffected by the brisk winds that whipped her long mahogany hair, waiting for Steven to move, to speak, to do anything.

Steven's eyes began to well, which in turn caused his face to flush an unusual red as the biting winds stung worse than normal. He pulled his winter hat down over his ears, using the opportunity to wipe his nose along one of his gloves.

"So," began Heidi with explicit annoyance—unlike her more common insensitive honesty. "You have finally decided to end your life. Have my stories from my past been of no interest? Was what we experienced together that terrible? Was it all so bad that you'd rather die than consider joining our family?"

Steven recalled the recent night at the symphony. Biting his lip, he slowly made eye contact with Heidi. When he spoke, his voice strained with emotion. "I cannot stop thinking about that night. Every day my mind relives the music; I remember getting the shit beaten out of me by those goons, us running from the police, hiding..." His gaze drifted down to the dark patch of thin ice.

"Well, I'm sorry it was so unpleasant for you."

Steven shook his head. "It wasn't unpleasant. That evening was the greatest moment of my life." Steven looked up into Heidi's confused eyes. "For the first time in my life, with you, a vampire, I felt alive. I was truly happy."

Heidi voice softened. "So where's the problem?"

Steven wiped at his eyes with back of his glove. "The problem is that before that night, I had accepted the fact that I was going to die. I would never let myself become a killer. I truly believe that I had chosen a peaceful path. But then you took me...somewhere unexpected. You made me...feel...something."

"And that's bad?"

"I don't know." Steven focused on the dark patch of thin ice for a long moment before taking a slow step backward. He raised his head and said, "Dying is one thing, but do you have to destroy my soul too?"

Heidi remained on the ice as she watched Steven turn and stumble back up the riverbank towards his car. Analyzing his words, she mostly felt relieved that the man had delayed his decision.

When Steven reached his car, he slid into his driver's seat, slamming his door shut with a mixture of grief and anger. He started the engine and backed out of his parking spot far too quickly, throwing his transmission into drive as his locked tires slid on the packed snow. Stomping the gas pedal, his rusty heap of an automobile glided forward with a long wheel spin, nearly clipping the back of Heidi's expensive sports car, which made Steven consider reversing his car to do just that. With a long sigh, he continued driving forward, coasting down to a normal speed as he reasoned that exquisite German engineering had not turned his life upside down.

Steven returned to his apartment only to pace erratically around his dilapidated couch. Rage had begun to consume him; conversely, he found this anger unexpectedly appealing. It felt good to feel something. _Anything!_ he reasoned. He had stood for hours on the ice, numb to the weather, numb to the world. But when that woman showed up, his executioner, he felt his body fill with emotions.

After a long while of pacing around his couch, the novelty of emotion had lost its appeal, forcing Steven to visit the bathroom to take one of his dwindling supplies of prescription stress pills. After swallowing the pill, he stared at his deteriorating reflection in the mirror. Spring would soon arrive, then summer, then death.

After recounting his remaining stress pills, Steven stumbled out of bathroom and returned to his pacing until the medicine began to quell the thumping in his chest. He contemplated making a doctor's appointment for a refill prescription, wondering briefly if his health insurance would cover the costs. He assumed that he still had a couple weeks of coverage since he had just left his job, but then again, what did it matter if he never paid his medical bills; he would soon be dead. He doubted good credit mattered in the afterlife.

And if his insurance failed to pay, he would pay out of pocket to get those pills. The medicine had gotten him though the last couple of months, and he only needed enough medicine to get through the remaining few. _But would the doctor renew my prescription now that I'm free of work stress?_ Steven began weighing other excuses. _Unemployment stress?_

As his pacing about his apartment slowed, he considered maxing out his two credit cards just for sport. He wondered what he wanted to do with the money during his final months: travel, gamble, eat extravagantly. Nothing that came to mind tempted him since it all involved other people. When he focused on what he really wanted, he could only think of being alone in the woods, as far away from civilization as possible to explore long forgotten trails on his mountain bike. He was a poor man without need of riches, time and solitude his only wish. _A vampire's life?_ he ironically derived with dismay.

After lunch, the stress medicine began to work its magic, and Steven found himself exhausted, mentally and physically, in much need of a nap. Combined with his many weeks of insomnia, his entire being demanded rest. He stumbled into his bedroom before letting all his clothes slip to the floor and sliding under his bedcovers.

The overcast sky seeped through his closed window shades, illuminating his room enough so that he could easily read if he wanted. With his eyes quickly adjusting to the light, he focused on the bomber painting that Heidi had gifted him—as he would every morning.

The painting was exquisite, immeasurably better than the manufactured reprint. Steven felt certain that Heidi's brush strokes had to be an improvement over the artist's original. And with each passing morning, his thoughts eventually turned to the extraordinary women and his perpetual question: _Why did she have to be a killer?_

When a moldy stench intruded his thoughts, Steven sat up to find himself in complete darkness. He felt cold hard concrete beneath him as the heavy, musty scent began to permeate his sense of taste. He recognized the musty scent to be the same that emanated from the basement of his childhood home. With a faint smile of understanding, he said aloud, "I'm dreaming."

Steven calmly climbed to his feet in the darkness, taking notice of the clothes that his subconscious mind had provided, feeling the small tears in the jeans from his teenage years. Assuming he was wearing his favorite grey t-shirt, he blindly reached out in search of the coarse cinderblock walls of the basement. After a few steps, after which he failed to touch anything, he began to worry since the basement of his childhood home was not relatively large.

The distinct sound of metal scraping across cinderblock reverberated loudly through the dark space, sending a shiver down Steven's spine. When a man's deep laughter next flooded his ears, seemly from somewhere close, Steven began to question if he was actually dreaming. "Who's there?"

Speaking with a European accent, a male voice echoed from all directions, "Why didn't you walk onto the patch of thin ice?"

Spinning around in the darkness with outstretched hands, Steven almost stumbled over his own feet. "Who-who are you? Did-did Heidi send you?"

The unnerving sound of metal scraping cinder repeated, seemly coming from all sides. The heavy male voice continued, "You should have walked onto the thin ice. It would have been so much...easier, cleaner."

Steven's hands trembled in the dark as he took small steps forward, his arms waving about in search of anything. He soon collided into a cold, flat wall, and as his fingers brushed the surface, detecting the familiar coarseness of cinderblock. He then asked, "Are you with the V-V-Volturi? I won't tell. I promise. I won't tell."

Boisterous laughter echoed throughout the dark space as Steven frantically shuffled to the side as his hands patted the wall, now in search of a door. The booming male voice then said, "How can we trust a human who just blatantly called out our family name to a stranger's voice?"

"It's just a name," pleaded Steven.

"Okay, let me answer your question: yes, we are the Volturi. We are the keeper of secrets, and you have proved unworthy."

"Please, please," begged Steven as he continued searching for a door. "I will be more careful."

The male voice suddenly seemed closer, as if someone had silently slid past him. "You only have two choices, and you had plenty of time to choose. Your visit to the river tells us that you have chosen."

"No!" screamed Steven. He slapped a hand hard against the wall, unaffected by the sting to his palm. "I still have a couple months to decide. I have more time."

"No," replied the booming voice. "You have proved unworthy of the Volturi name. It is time that we bury this secret."

Steven's fingertips touched wood! He reached down and quickly had hold of a doorknob. He pulled unsuccessfully on the handle until he remembered that this door uncharacteristically swung out. He then pushed forward and stumbled outward into a blinding white light, falling onto ground with outstretched hands. Squinting under a raised arm, his vision quickly adjusted to the sunlight to discover himself lying on the summer grass outside his childhood home. Stunned by the sight of his former home, he continued to stare when the pleasing scent of freshwater caused him to look over his shoulder at a very familiar lake.

When laughter echoed loudly from the open basement door, Steven leapt to his feet and took off running. With the lake at his side, he glanced once more at the familiar shoreline as small waves of about knee height drifted towards him. To the other side, tall oak trees blotted out the sun as Steven crossed the yard of a neighbor's, stopping among a small clump of pine trees. Gripped by terror, Steven only took enough time to look over his shoulder to see that no one was following before sprinting into the next clearing of the next property.

The lawn stretched a 100 meters wide and led to a small forest. Steven turned for the entrance of a woodland trail when something heavy struck him from behind between the shoulders, sending the man tumbling forward onto his face.

Even before he had landed on the ground, Steven had discerned the cold, metal sensation within his back, penetrating deep into his body. Prone on the ground, he immediately began to taste the blood seeping into his mouth as internal bleeding sent cascading warmth outward from the wound, slowly warming the perverse cold metallic object inside his body until the cold had been completely engulfed.

Steven pushed against the ground only to find his strength rapidly fleeting. Ultimately, he could only manage to lift his head briefly as he turned his face towards the lake before collapsing nearly lifeless on the ground

Despite being unable to move his body, his heart raced. Contrary to this, his respirations slowed to shallow breaths as the blood began oozing from his mouth. He attempted to control his breathing, but the task proved impossible. Steven quickly realized that he had been dealt a fatal blow and would soon die.

A heightened terror surged through him, but most unexpectedly, the fear only lasted a moment as a sense of peace began to grow inside.

Steven no longer feared his attacker; instead, he turned his attention to the winds surging off the lake. With the grass before his face, brushing his cheek, he watched as small whitecaps of water broke close to shore. The soothing scent from the lake mixed with the aroma of green grass and blood as tears flowed over his burning cheeks, cooling the skin. With inexplicable joy, he combed this last image of all he held dear.

Having fallen under a large tree canopy of oak trees, the sun seemed to dance across the lawn as the branches swayed, occasionally flashing Steven's face with direct sunlight, but the man continued to stare at the rhythmic waves on the lake as they progressed towards shore. The fresh water lake was as much of a home as the house in which he was raised. He was glad to be lying here; he was glad to leaving world _here_. He _was_ home and most importantly, _free_.

Steven smiled just as his last bit of strength faded from his body. He closed his eyes as the universe's love enveloped him in its invisible arms, and most peacefully, he slipped into a blissful eternal sleep.

Safe in his bed, Steven calmly opened his eyes. He awoke as if not having actually slept, as if he had simply closed his eyes with a deep thought. His heart did not race; his body was free of sweat. Without turning his head, his eyes surveyed the room. Realizing that he was very much alive, a hole opened up in his chest. Steven clutched his blankets with bunched fists as his eyes squeezed shut. Softly he began to weep as he futilely clung to the euphoric feeling that his dream had bestowed. And here he would remain until all the toxic anxiety and dread of reality had fully returned, choking him once more in their unmerciful grip.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

Staring up into the heavens, Heidi spent the night on the Steven's apartment rooftop, lying comfortably in the snow as she listened to his faint wails—gentle sobs that his neighbors could not hear through the cheap, thin walls. Heidi easily sensed something different this night as his particular sounds of grief carried a different empathy than before.

Heidi had long ago dismissed the human's petty concerns, but this one human had gotten under her skin. A few months prior, she would have barged into his apartment and demanded to know what had upset him. She now chose to be careful, to be patient, her reasoning being that she had worked too hard—more importantly, spent too much time in Fargo—to let this potential weapon slip away.

At the first hint of sunrise, the vampire took heed of the weather as the cloudless sky and lack of blowing snow meant she would soon have to move to the shadows if she intended to keep observing this man throughout the day. Dropping silently from the apartment rooftop into the snow, Heidi returned to her own apartment for more appropriate attire.

She first showered—an unnecessary task for a vampire if not for the occasional blood spillage; however, she found her time under the water relaxing as to prepare her mind in the event of needing to act quickly, mortally.

She then picked clothes that would allow safe movement throughout the day: a high-collared jacket and wide brimmed hat. Consciously, she slowed her movements to that of a normal human's pace as she exited her apartment—a simple task of self-control made more difficult after nearly arriving too late to the river just the day before.

At a safe distance, she parked her sports car in a location that allowed her keen vampire vision to spy Steven's apartment window. Tossing her sun hat onto the passenger seat, she settled in for a long day of surveillance.

Heidi waited…and waited…and waited some more without seeing any activity through Steven's window. She began to worry that the man had overdosed on his medicine while she had gone to shower and change when she finally spotted Steven rising from his couch only to move out of sight towards his bookshelf. Within seconds, he reappeared in the window, only to return to his spot on the couch. The observation distance too far to see more, Heidi continued waiting only to witness Steven repeat the same procedure shortly after lunch. When Steven's next movement from the couch occurred around dinner, her frustration with this infernal 'babysitting mission' nearly reached its apex as she began to rudely text Jane, who she thought had not done enough to ease her torment— _considering it was her idea I the first place!_

Heidi then considered turning him against his will to be done with it. She also considered that a vindictive Steven might side against the Volturi; and if he escaped, the masters would no doubt blame her. She considered the risk of a newborn vampire like Steven: how he would be stronger than her; and if remained immune to her gift, he would most likely escape, perhaps even expose their existence.

To release some stress, Heidi typed another long, profanity-laced text to Jane. And despite summoning up many forgotten profanities from the extinct languages she could remember, the colorful text gave no satisfaction.

When Steven rose to move out of sight towards his bookshelf for a fourth time, Heidi facial muscles began to tighten. She reasoned, _There are plenty of wildling vampires already. They'll expose us anyway, so one more wildling won't matter._ With the growing urge to kill someone, anything, Heidi's teeth ground loudly together before she spat out the words, "Times up!"

Heidi moved her car the short distance into the apartment complex's parking lot. She decided to invite the annoying human for a car ride, at which time she would drive him to a remote section of forest or boarded up summer lake cabin, any location where his conversion would be undisturbed, a place where his screams would go unnoticed until the silent, paralyzing portion of his ascension silenced him.

Summoning the remaining remnants of her self-control, Heidi paused outside Steven's apartment door and knocked calmly, _like a human._

Steven called softly from his couch, "Come in."

As she flung open the door, Heidi thought, _You lazy, little, shi—_

Steven looked over his shoulder to reveal mournful eyes surrounded by deep shadows. His face was unshaven with unwashed hair resembling that of a neglected dog.

Heidi froze as her hand firmly gripped the handle of the open door. Her anger evaporated as quickly as she had entered the apartment. She watched with consternation as the man turned away, appearing ashamed before sinking into his couch with a clutched pillow on his lap.

She had been ordered to befriend this young man, realizing now that she had failed. As she gently closed the door to the apartment, she recalled her long lost friend from the Second World War from fifty years ago. She may not have seen the same vampire potential in Steven that Jane suspected, but she sensed something special that made her concerned.

Stepping slowly around the couch, she surveyed the room to find the television off as classical music played softly from his computer desk speakers. On the top of the bookshelf, Heidi discovered a single goldfish in a round bowl. "That's new."

Steven's eyes shifted briefly to the goldfish. "That's Joan. She belonged to a little girl across the hall. Her and her mother just moved across the country for a new job. The little girl asked me to take care of it."

"Is that what you were doing all day, feeding it?"

Steven looked up at Heidi with a confused expression.

"Yes," began Heidi with a shrug, "I was spying on you. I promised the Volturi to keep you safe. I'm not your enemy."

Steven turned on the couch to look out his sole living room window. Realizing that the distance was significant, he turned back to Heidi, "Do you need binoculars?"

"No."

Steven gestured the woman to sit. "So your eyes become enhanced like your hearing."

"Yes," replied Heidi as she gingerly sat on the opposite end of the couch.

With a simple " _huh"_ , Steven turned his blood shot eyes up to the goldfish bowl.

"Do you like the fish?"

"No," replied Steven without breaking his gaze. "It's a nuisance."

"Then get rid of it; flush it."

Steven shook his head as he turned to Heidi. "I won't kill the fish, never."

Heidi's brow knitted with confusion. "Why?"

"I will not give up on the fish," replied Steven, his voice straining until it became a barely audible whisper, "because I don't want God to give up on me."

A few months prior, Heidi would have found this mortal's concerns irritating. After being forced to observe Steven, she now found his eccentricities intriguing. She reclined into the couch and began listening to his heart, waiting for it to slow, for his emotional state to stable. After several minutes, she felt the time right to ask, "What made you cry last night?"

Steven turned to her again with a dumbfounded look.

"I was on the roof," continued Heidi. "Your muffled wails sounded mournful, as if someone had died."

"Someone did," replied Steven. "Me...in my dream."

"What hap—" Heidi interrupted herself and more politely asked, "If you don't mind me asking, what happened?"

"I don't mind," said Steven. "You can ask me anything."

"As you can with me."

A hint of color returned to Steven's cheeks as he collected his thoughts. He adjusted his sitting position on the couch by straightening his posture, and with a deep breath, he began to confide in Heidi, "I experienced the most vivid dream in all my life. I knew it was a dream from the beginning, but when a stranger hiding in the darkness said that it was time to die, I suddenly forgot it was a dream. Some man, who I never did see, chased me out of my childhood home, across a couple back yards of our neighbors, and killed me with a thrown knife to the back. Well, I think it was a knife."

With genuine concern, Heidi commented, "It must have been terrifying for you."

Steven shrugged as he stared aimlessly at the coffee table before him. "Yes...and no. The odd thing is that my death felt real. It felt as real to me as sitting next to you right now. You see..." Steven swallowed hard as he tried to continue. After a couple failed attempts to speak, he shook his head. "You'll just laugh."

"I won't." Heidi's hand flinched, resisting the urge to reach out to the man clutching his pillow. "I promise."

Steven slowly turned towards her. "My death felt so natural and blissful. I felt...," Steven's eyes flitted away, "…loved. It felt as if I was returning home, but not to my childhood home, to some special place in the universe."

Heidi knew not how to respond and began biting her lip.

"I died happily in my dream," continued Steven, "at which point I calmly awoke. When I realized that I was safe and warm in my bed, I began to cry. I wanted to return to that secret place. I wanted to feel that elation death gave me." Steven clasped his pillow tighter as his head bowed forward. "It's impossible to truly describe what I felt: love...relief...homecoming. I don't know. It's probably a trick that my brain played on me. All I know is that it was true bliss."

Heidi said the only thing she could, "I'm sorry." When Steven looked up at her, the vampire confessed, "I haven't slept in centuries, so I cannot even comprehend a simple dream anymore. But it sounds as if the experience gave you some sort of epiphany."

"Maybe." After a long pause, as the faint sounds of doors opening and closing in the apartment complex became noticeable, he asked, "You never dream?"

"No. We sometimes meditate to organize our thoughts in order to remember important events. Sometimes we meditate to forget certain memories. Our brain neurons regenerate easily in our conscious state, forgoing the need to sleep, to dream. I told you this before. Remember?"

"You did?"

"Yes, over tea.

Steven rubbed his eyes. "That's right. I knew this."

Heidi forced a smile. "You're exhausted."

"I'm more than exhausted." Steven rubbed his face with both hands before asking, "Do you miss sleep?"

"No." Heidi gazed up briefly at the fish, a fellow creature who also experience periods of quiescence in lieu of sleep. "Parts of me are the same as my old human self, and parts of me changed when I was turned into a vampire. I adjusted to my change, just as most creatures in nature do, like the butterfly for example. I've accepted who I've become."

Steven frowned. "Are you saying that I'd adjust?"

"I wasn't trying to sell you into becoming like me. I was just sharing my experience."

Steven nodded. "I know. I do appreciate your honesty."

"I'm not one for lying."

"I know."

"So if you have more questions, ask away," said Heidi as she folded her hands in her lap.

Steven inhaled deeply as he struggled with a thought.

"What?" asked Heidi, sensing that the introvert had a question of a personal nature.

"Will you go to bed with me?" Steven's eyes flitted away, fearful of the response.

Again, surprised by this mortal man, Heidi waited, unsure of Steven's true intention. She simply gazed back at him with a faint smile.

"I can't believe that I'm saying this," began Steven, "but I don't want to have sex. You see, I simply would like you there next to me—rather than on the roof. I need to feel your presence next to me, that's it." Steven clasped his fidgeting hands together. "More than I want to admit, I enjoy hearing your historic stories, your adventures. I used to fear your presence, but now...I don't know, it comforts me."

Rising slowly from the couch, Heidi offered her hand to Steven. When he accepted it, she led him into the bedroom where they stopped at the foot of the bed, their hands still clasped together.

Shyly, Steven pulled his hand from her grip and proceeded towards the adjoining bathroom where he first reached for his anxiety medicine. "I haven't been sleeping well for weeks. I probably won't sleep now, but if I don't at least try to sleep, I'll lose the last remnants of my sanity."

"Okay," said Heidi as she surveyed the man's dirty sheets and blankets. "If you don't mind, I'll just lie on top of the bed."

Steven interrupted the application of toothpaste to his brush. "Yes, of course. I hope the smell of my bedroom isn't too bad for your vampire senses."

"The smell isn't that bad," said Heidi—seeing her comment as a half-truth rather than a white lie.

After a quick brush of his teeth, Steven closed the bathroom door to urinate, exiting a minute later only to stand nervously at the edge of the bed. After a subconscious moment, he quickly stripped down to his underwear and slid under the covers, all to Heidi's bemusement.

The woman reclined onto her back, eventually turning her head to find Steven's waiting stare. She smiled at him and asked, "So what kind of story do you want to hear?"

"Anything. Something with a happy ending, preferably."

"Happy endings usually only happen in fairy tales."

"I'll take anything. Maybe it's the passing of time, but your oldest stories don't depress me. They feel like Grimm' Fairy Tales."

"Okay. Let me comb my memories for a couple minutes."

Steven turned onto his side, tucking his pillow under his head. "Can you remember everything?"

"No," answered Heidi softly. "When we meditate, our reflection helps our brains retain the important memories while letting the unimportant details permanently fade away. The brain can only hold so much." Heidi smiled as the man's next question flashed in his eyes before they again flitted away. "What?" she asked.

Slowly, Steven looked into the vampire's eyes. "Do you remember their faces, the ones you've fed upon?"

Heidi calmly replied. "Some. When I feed on scum, I barely take notice, but sometimes...on a rare occasion, I take notice."

"When?" whispered Steven.

"Before modern warfare, two hundred years or so, we vampires would linger near the battlefields of grand armies for entertainment. We would watch the humans slaughter each other for the petty goals of their narcissistic leaders. After the battles, we would sometimes slip onto the fields once dark to feed. We often found terminally wounded soldiers clinging onto life. Sometimes with the moon reflecting off our faces, many of these dying men thought we were angels."

Steven swallowed hard and asked, "Did you reveal the truth to them?"

"No," replied Heidi with her traditional candor. "I would let them believe what they wanted. I'd even helped some pray before..."

"Before you ended their suffering," Steven concluded softly. "If I was dying from a painful battle wound, I'd want a beautiful angel like you to end my suffering."

If Heidi were not a vampire, she may have blushed at the man's words. "We let them have their beliefs at the end. We're not monsters."

"Were you humane about it, I mean at the end, the actual death."

"Yes. Their deaths were quick. Believe it or not, our hunting has a method. When hunting as a coven, you do not want fear to spread amongst a crowd by someone screaming ominously. Nor is it good to let your prey fear unnecessarily since their adrenalin taints the blood. Some young, uncouth vampires don't take notice of their hunting methods and will hunt poorly. You have to learn quickly if you want to survive in this world as vampire; you have to be fast and discreet, and dare I say it, humane."

Steven struggled to hide his amusement. Perhaps uninhibited by his medicine, he smiled and said, "After having met two actual vampires, I still think the only true monsters in this world are men."

Once more, Heidi felt her face flush despite the impossibility. "We vampires have our bad apples like everyone else, but overall, we are more civil and organized than any human society."

Feeling as if Heidi's words had turned into sales rhetoric, Steven began to contemplate a new topic of discussion.

Also sensing the weight of the conversation, Heidi promptly asked, "Do you like ghost stories?"

Steven's smile grew. "Of course."

"Do you know of the great ship, the SS Great Eastern? I once sailed on it."

Rising up onto his elbow, Steven brow arched with intrigue. "Isn't that the ship so large that it was thought workman had been accidentally sealed within the bulkheads, that their ghosts could be heard tapping on the steel."

"Yes."

Steven lowered himself back onto his pillow with a cautious look. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," replied Heidi with mock offense. "But I can tell you that those ghostly sounds did occur. I heard them first hand."

"Could you hear their hearts beating through the bulkheads?"

"No, silly," retorted Heidi with a smirk. "Ghosts don't have heartbeats."

With a hint of embarrassment, Steven's gaze drifted to the empty space between them on the bed. "Right. Silly me."

"What?"

With childlike apprehension, Steven asked, "Do you actually believe in ghosts?"

"Yes. I told you the truth: I heard them on that great ship. And though I did not see these particular ghosts, I have seen others. You know I don't lie." Heidi pointed to her face. "You once thought vampires were a myth, and yet, here I am."

Steven grinned.

Heidi found the man's grin peculiar. "The thought of ghosts makes you happy?"

Steven nodded.

"Why?"

"A ghost would be proof that there is more than a black empty void waiting for us after death."

"Well, I can tell you that ghosts are all around us. It's just harder for humans to sense them."

"Did you help the ghosts trapped on the Great Eastern?"

"I tried. I set out looking for their remains but failed to discover them by the time we reached our destination. I suspected that had I began tearing open metal bulkheads in my search that the captain of the ship would have not been too pleased. Not something one can do discreetly at sea."

Steven's gaze again returned to the empty space on the bed as he asked, "What did you do for foo— Um…did you have to feed while at sea?"

"As with any travel, we were always careful with our ocean crossings. Vampires are wise not to feed on a ship since every passenger has to be accounted for. Back then, we would simply feed before setting off. And if we had to feed at sea, we'd feed on sharks."

Steven eyes widened. "How?"

"Sharks sometimes follow ships. We'd slip overboard at night to feed before climbing back on board unseen."

"Could you swim across the Atlantic Ocean?"

"Yes, but it's not something we'd actually want to do. Even we get bored with monotonous tasks."

"That would be boring" commented Steven before yawning. "But don't you find humans irritating? Especially in close quarters like on a ship."

"Human's were much less annoying back during the sailing and steamship days."

Steven's brow pinched together. "How so?"

Heidi's gaze drifted up to the ceiling as she searched for the words. "Well," she began slowly, "humans still had that sense of wonder. They had stronger faiths and more vivid imaginations. Modern science seems to have dampened all that. Humans now are all about facts. This, sadly, makes them all so wearisome."

"I like science," declared Steven with a hint of defensiveness.

"Yes, but you're not boring." Heidi's smile grew. "How do you phrase it? You're _interesting_." After a short pause where the two exchanged regarded looks, she continued, "Should I continue with my ghost story?"

"Yes, please do," replied Steven with rosy cheeks. "Do you have many ghost stories?"

"Of course," replied Heidi as she rested her head upon her upper arm. "I have all kinds of ghost stories that take place on ships, deep within forests, and inside grand castles."

"Good. Tell me more about the Great Eastern," said Steven with an intoxicated smile, his eyelids weighted down by his medicine.

Heidi did continue, but she did not share much of her story before her audience had fallen asleep. By his heavy mouth breathing and earlier erratic demeanor, she could see that his mental exhaustion had taken a toll. She decided to remain by his side throughout the night.

Sleep had been one of those things her memories had discarded, the ideal of sleep only brought to mind the nicety of never feeling mentally exhausted. Mostly, she admired the longer days, the almost infinite time bestowed to her upon her ascension. Staring into the tired face of this man, she began to admire his fortitude of protecting all life, his path of peace, his connection to nature. Of all the terrible humans that deserve to be visited by a vampire, this human did not, and for the first time, she felt guilty—something else she had not experienced in a long time. She eventually concluded that this human would make for a terrible vampire.

At the first sign of twilight, Heidi gently tickled Steven's nose until his eyelids fluttered open. When his eyes eventually focused, she whispered, "I have to leave."

"Okay," he grumbled, letting his eyes fall shut.

"No. I don't think you understand. I'm returning to Italy today. I will not be returning."

Steven's eyes snapped opened. He sat up. "What about—"

Heidi sat up slowly, swinging her legs off the edge of the mattress. She spoke softly as she moved to the foot of the bed. "You're safe. I promise."

Steven tossed aside his blankets and scooted towards the woman. "I don't understand."

"I'm giving you your life back."

"How can you? The Volturi said—"

Heidi covered the young man's mouth briefly as she smiled. She bent down to stare into his eyes. "Loyal Volturi guards, servants who have proved their worth to the masters, are sometimes granted wishes. I haven't asked for anything in decades. I'm going to ask the masters to forget about you."

Steven's dismay became more apparent as the seconds passed. "They think that I could be a useful weapon. They won't let me go. Plus, I know of their existence. They won't want me wondering free."

Heidi straightened. "They will let you go if I ask, especially if I make a special pledge."

By the ominous tone in which Heidi had said the words, Steven became very still. "What pledge."

"If a vampire pledges their life in return of a favor, it signifies the importance of the request, that the vampire will sacrifice their life if the pledge is broken."

"You'd do that for me." Steven began to reach for Heidi's hand but checked himself, gripping the edge of the bed instead. "What if I screw up and anger the Volturi? I don't want them hurting you for my mistake."

Heidi gently reached down and took hold of Steven's hand. "I know that you'll keep the secret safe. I trust you."

Steven felt Heidi's grip slowly loosen, his hand coming to rest on his thigh. The mix emotions flooding his body had left him speechless.

"Do you still have the money we gave you?"

Steven nodded.

"Good. Take some time off to relax, enjoy the summer, mountain bike, travel. In a couple months, you should be as good as new. You can then return to work, hopefully to a job more enjoyable."

Swallowing hard, Steven asked with a raspy voice, "How will I know if your masters have accepted your pledge."

With a calming smile, Heidi bent over once more to lift Steven's chin with the tip of her finger. "If in week, you find yourself still amongst the living, then you'll know they've granted me my wish and have accepted my pledge." She then watched with amazement as the man's eyes began to well. She kissed him on the forehead with her cool vampire lips before straightening and taking a step back.

Unable to speak, the confused man wiped his tears with his quivering hands.

"Goodbye, Steven." Heidi then passed through the open bedroom door and quietly exited the apartment, leaving Steven as she first discovered him those many months ago.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

The sound of Jan's gentle clacking heels was known intimately by every member of the Volturi since the sound often foreshadowed her arrival for another all-important mission. In fact, each Volturi member could identify the other by the sound of their stride, especially Jane's with her short stature and hard-healed platform shoes that added to her meager height.

With vampire vision second to none, Jane walked unencumbered in the complete darkness, moving with the same confidence of their unrelated cousins, the bat—a creature far from blind with vision three times stronger than a human's. Not only was the dark soothing to her, it helped to dissuade any human from exploring should they stumble upon the underground lair by accident, their torches an early warning signal to every nonhuman—or beast—in the tunnels. The dark also prevented escapes, if a problem should ever occur.

Before heading to the master's throne room, Jane stopped at the door to Felix's room. When she pushed the unlocked door open, she peered through the darkness to find the man meditating on long, hardwood bed—absent a mattress, savouring the otherwise complete silence.

Well aware of who had entered, Felix calmly asked without opening his eyes, "What?"

"Prepare for travel," replied Jane. "And tell the pilot to prepare for immediate departure.

"Where to?"

"You know where. We leave for Minnesota at sundown." Jane closed the door, humored by Felix's vexed groan that rose from deep within the man's mountain of a body.

Progressing through the dark halls, Jane turned a corner to find the flicker of candlelight reflecting off the stone flooring just below her brother's closed door. She entered to find him astutely painting another perfect copy of a Chagall masterpiece, his fingers speckled and stained by various colors of paint—all the while his tailored clothing remaining remarkably spotless.

Smiling at the arrival of his sister, Alex continued to focus on his work as he delicately added a finishing brushstroke to a woman's blue folding-fan. Satisfied, he stepped back from the easel as his discerning eyes shifted to the next detail in the painting that needed enhancing. "Minnesota?"

"Yes. Can you inform Demetri for me?"

"Yes. Has the human fled?" asked Alex, still focused on the canvas.

"No," replied Jane. "But I'm not taking any chances. The whole team must go. I have to speak to the masters first."

When her brother nodded in agreement, Jane slipped back into the darkness, turning down several long corridors before descending a couple flights of stairs until she entered the dimly lit corridor that led to the masters' throne room.

Aro stood floor level, looking up at the altar where his two colleagues sat, the pair poised as if they were about to address a grand audience. Aro turned to the sound of approaching footsteps and greeted his favorite guard well before she had stepped into the gas lantern glow of the chamber. "Ah, Jane, my dear. My condolences for the loss of your priest friend."

Jane stepped out of the shadows, carrying the red velvet covered box, which appeared darker under the gas lantern lights. She stopped before the masters and bowed. "Thank you, Master. The priest passed away just before dawn, yesterday."

More concerned with his grooming, Caius carried on inspecting his fingernails. "That took longer than expected."

Jane directed her impassive gaze to the master. "He enjoyed my company, as I did his. The nurse commented that I may have extended his life by a few days. I would have been here sooner, but I needed to be sure that the hospital would fulfill his burial wishes."

Marcus's eyes narrowed on the velvet covered object in Jane's possession. "What's that?" he asked with a faint gesture of one hand. "Your priest?"

"A sacred box from the Vatican," replied Jane. "The priest bestowed this to me, asking me not to look upon the contents until his passing."

As the masters exchanged perplexed looks, Jane injected, "It's nothing but fine dust inside." Before they could comment, Jane added, "I peeked while he was sleeping. He slept a lot before passing away."

Caius leaned forward, scooting to the edge of his throne as he eyed the object with suspicion. "Do tell; is it magic pixie dust? If not, it's quite anticlimactic otherwise."

"I believe this holds more than simple dust, Master. As to its source, I do not know." Jane removed the wood box from the red velvet bag. She immediately noticed how the three masters had become rigid, absolutely still.

Marcus sprung first from his alter chair for a closer inspection, gliding his fingers over the ornate woodcarvings. "We haven't seen patterns like this in centuries." He turned to his companions, looking for confirmation from either. "Brothers, would you say this is the same work of those first clerics?"

Aro's gaze remained fixed on the box. "My instincts tell me that you might be right. Jane, please open the box—slowly, my dear."

Jane calmly opened the box as instructed, observing her masters as they peered inside at a thick layer of dust evenly covering the bottom. The dust was fine with a blackened color, so dark that light seemed to be absorbed rather than reflected from the surface. Jan felt alarmed when Caius backed away from the box before disappearing from sight in a flash down a corridor that led to their treasure chamber. When she looked to Aro, she received a nod to close the box with equal caution. "Masters, is this box significant?"

With an exasperated look, Marcus took a slow step back. "Exceedingly."

"How so?" asked Jane.

As Aro suppressed his nervous laughter, he excitedly clasped his hands together. "We don't know."

Caius returned from the throne room with equal speed, his face tight with concern. "Brothers, it's missing."

The three masters stood silent as each recalled distant events, each reaching the same conclusion as to what may have happened.

Jane struggled to hide her impatience. "What's missing?"

Aro gestured to the box. "We once came into possession of a crystal with similar markings. It was the size of a perfume bottle. The people who sold it to us said that it made up half of a key."

"Key to what?" asked Jane.

Caius began pacing erratically. "We don't know for certain."

"A lock," injected Marcus. "A blasted, metaphorical lock. One, as lore has it, condemns us to the shadows."

Reflecting on her final moments at her friend's bedside, Jane commented, "The priest mentioned a second component to the box, one that was sent to the new world for safe keeping."

Aro's brow rose with this new information, "That is where we had found the crystal during our first expedition to the new world, when we brought order to the wildling vampire clans. We didn't know what we had until much later when our Vatican spies began divulging the institutions deepest secrets."

"Do you know who took the crystal?" ask Jane.

Aro glanced at his companions, each appearing equally certain. "Of course we do. There has been few whom we have trusted with the secrets of our vault. Of those, only one has chosen to leave our family."

Jane quickly realized who had taken the crystal, one who the masters had unfortunately trusted—against her own misgivings, a young vampire barely two centuries old, a child. Unable to withhold her dissatisfaction, she began to scowl, asking, "What if he destroys it?"

Caius swiftly returned to his throne. "All the better. Destroying it will release whatever inside."

"Allowing the crystal's contents," added Marcus, "to reunite with..." The man waved his hand at the box in Jane's hands. "...to reunite with whatever that is, or was. We suspect that the two elements will naturally converge once whatever the crystal has been broken. Distance may only delay reunification briefly, so it is thought."

Jane gazed at the carvings on the box. "Master, why didn't you open the crystal when you had it?"

Marcus settled onto his throne. "We didn't believe the myths until now. The crystal was a one of a kind; we've never seen anything like it before, manmade or natural. We thought it best to wait since time is always on our side."

Jane again noticed Aro's excitement. "Master, is there a prophecy that I should know about?"

"Oh, there are no such things as prophecies, dear one. You know that."

Jane nodded. "Yes, Master. Prophecies are only poorly held secrets. What else do you know?"

"Nothing. When we again retrieve the crystal, we shall find out together."

This time, Jane successfully suppressed her emotions—though her tone may have betrayed a hint of sarcasm. "Don't you mean, when I retrieve the crystal?"

Aro nodded, ever smiling. "Right you are."

"What if he hid it in the middle of nowhere?" asked Jane. "When he sailed across the Atlantic, he might have tossed it over the ship?"

Caius revealed a rare, knowing grin. "He wouldn't dare. The crystal must remain intact. If he was bold enough to steal it, he must have realized its importance. He would never risk exposing something like that to tremendous ocean pressures, or leave it somewhere unguarded from natural disasters. The crystal is no doubt safe, somewhere in his lair. Moreover, I doubt he told anyone: not his wife, not his coven, especially those potty-trained pups. Focus on him, and he will eventually lead you to it."

Jane nodded her acceptance of the new task befallen her. "I shall, but with your permission, Masters, I must first aide Heidi."

"Ah, yes," said Aro as he slowly ascended the couple steps to his throne. "Judgement day is approaching for our little pet. Can I assume he has chosen death?"

"Yes, Master. I believe so. I will be seeing to his decision personally."

Caius shared a displeased look with Aro before asking Jane, "Is there any reason why Heidi cannot simply feed on the human and return?"

"Master," began Jane, "your moniker of _pet_ is more apropos to this situation. In Heidi's attempt to befriend the human, she has...become his friend."

Aro slowly sat. "Humans can sometimes do that, like your priest."

"Yes, Master. A man to which we are indebted, if I may be so bold to say."

Aro happily gazed once more at the box. "You may. And now you must be a good friend to Heidi. I'm sure you will handle the situation with discretion."

"Yes, Master. After which, I will then proceed to retrieve the crystal."

"No hurry," said Aro. "We don't want to alert our vegan friends by acting hastily."

With a simply flick of his finger, Marcus gestured towards the box. "Secure _that_ in the vault before you go."

"Yes, Master." Jane bowed slowly before departing through the back corridor towards the Volturi treasure vault, a simple room designed to keep out moisture amongst temperate temperatures. Entering the vault by way of a heavy wooden door, she slipped the box into the velvet bag before setting the item on a large cedar bookcase, beside other artifacts, some of which that had been forgotten to time.

Running her fingers over the soft velvet, Jane thought of her priest friend, her thoughts mournful but not regretful. She would befriend him again if she could relive their chance meeting, the reward of box being of no significance to her. The loss of her mortal friend only made the upcoming task more tragic. She would not hesitate for a second at what needed doing. After all, being undead did not absolve one from life. _Perhaps_ , she began to suspect, _the man in Minnesota knows this._


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter** 27

Steven remained at the foot of his bed well after Heidi had exited his apartment, the moment when she had informed him of her departure for Italy after pledging that he would be safe and free to live out his human life. Unable to stop his fidgeting, Steven reached for his pillow, clutching it upon his lap until he eventually crawled back under the covers. He then pulled Heidi's pillow close, smelling the remnants of her expensive European shampoo. He had resided himself to death for such a long time that this unexpected reprieve had left him dazed and confused.

A cold sweat slowly enveloped his body as he repeatedly mumbled, "Seven days." He replayed the woman's words in his head, worried that he may have misheard her. Inevitably, the growing amount of stress led to a nauseating anxiety attack, forcing him to seek out his prescription stress medicine.

Doubling the dosage, Steven spent the rest of the day on his couch in a medicated stupor, his mind drifting between dreams and nightmares.

 **...**

During the next seven days, Steven debated sending a text or email to Heidi, but he refrained with the knowledge that electronic communication was the least form of private conversation in this supposedly technologically advanced world. However, he succumbed to his stress and sent a one-word email of _Hello?_ He soon after realized that this was a futile cry for help, so when no response came, he felt relieved—or so he told himself.

Those seven days were the longest of Steven's life, and the following three weeks passed almost as slowly. But after a month, Steven awoke with the long forgotten feeling of contentment. As he described his mood to his friend Dee—at one of the many lunches spent at his former workplace, he felt for the first time in years free of worry. He had a new outlook on life: to stop fearing the future, to stop regretting the past, and enjoy the now.

 **...**

Weeks later, embracing the _now_ , Steven gasped for air as adrenaline flooded his body. He unexpectedly found himself face to face with a most sublime predator. Steven dared not move. _Running would be futile_ , he thought as he suppressed his natural instinct. Unlike a year ago, he did not panic but remained calm, realizing at the same time that he should be more frightened. _But how many people these days get to experience this?_

Of the many years of mountain biking through these woods, he had always assumed that he was the only predator floating along these woodland trails at great speed. Steven should have known that he had never ruled over these woods by himself, that he was not the top dog—or canis lupus to be more specific.

Steven was staring—in complete awe—at a large wolf less than a stone's throw away. This was the first wolf he had seen in the wild, and the creature appeared much larger than he had ever imagined. _This is no German Shepard_ , he had first thought as his mountain bike had skidded to a halt. The animal stood as high as Steven's chest, the animal's fur darkened for summer.

The wolf calmly stared back at Steven with the same perplexity, the creature possibly surprised by the most unusual sighting of a human in this refuge for protected habitat.

In mere seconds, Steven's fearful wonderment grew to extreme worry as the wild animal remained standing on the trail, not skedaddling as wildlife normally would in the presence of humans. A second wave adrenaline flooded Steven's bloodstream as he considered turning his bike around and fleeing. Knowing that a wolf could easily chase down a mountain biker, Steven began eyeing the closest climbable tree, wondering how fast he could reach the top.

Before Steven could make his next decision, the wolf calmly turned and slipped into the forest, disappearing into the shadows of the dense foliage.

Steven audibly sighed as his eyes continued searching the shadows. _Camera!_ he suddenly remembered—too late as always when encountering wild animals in the forest. He again regretted not having a collection of wildlife photos, but then again, photos were snapshots of the past, and Steven never came to forest to collect history. Not realizing it until recently, he had always been a person of the _now_.

His smile grew enthusiastically. Despite the fear, he had enjoyed this most unexpected encounter with such a reclusive creature. Pulling his water bottle from his mountain bike, he thought how nice it would be to see more predators of the forest, but then again, he found the stare down not something he wanted to experience again so soon.

 _What if the wolf had rabies…or pups? What if it was...hungry?_ Steven remembered the large herd of deer lingering on an open section of prairie, taking shelter from the summer heat under the shadows at the forest's edge. _The wolf had probably been hunting those same deer!_

Steven whipped his bike around and promptly exited this section of forest by the same path he had entered. He again saw the deer lingering on the prairie at the edge of the forest, a couple hundred yards from a forest service utility trail that he had been following. When Steven thought about the poor unsuspecting animal destined for that wolf's stomach, he did not question the fairness of life as he normally wood. If anything, these animals accept their fates much more readily than humans. The deer understood that there is a wolf always lingering in the shadows, that someday they will die in the clutches of a predator's fierce jaws—or more likely, struck down by a pair of automobile lights while crossing a road.

Steven pedaled fiercely over the dirt trail that led back to his car. His smile held as sweat formed on his brow, running down each side of his face as his wet skin cooled in the light breeze. He inhaled deeply the scent of the freshwater lakes as the trail passed one lake to the next between dense patches of his beloved forest. Even the algae filled ponds and the marshy wetlands filled his senses with pleasant memories as patches of sunlight would occasionally flash across his face.

This forest was his extension of home. He belonged to nature, and if he had to spend eternity in one spot, this wildlife refuge would be that location, every bolder, stump, and stream etched forever in his mind.

Reaching the end of his ride, with his blood overflowing with endorphins, Steven coasted into the grassy parking lot and quickly proceeded to disassemble his mountain bike in the hope of avoiding as many black fly bites as possible. With a steady June breeze blanketing the wildlife refuge, Steven barely noticed the black flies this day. And without the need to jump into his car for safety, Steven grabbed his water bottle and proceeded to stroll around the edge of the grassy parking lot for a desperately needed cooling down period, sipping the last remnants of water as he occasionally swatted at insects with his baseball hat.

With lackadaisical strides, he continued to pace around his car, longer than needed as he soaked in his surroundings. The young man noticed something different as he rubbed his sweaty face. He knew without looking in a mirror that he continued to smile. The day had been a perfect one, and he found himself free of despair, anger, and wanting.

When Steven walked up to his car and opened the door, he leaned against the vehicle as he gazed at the small waves drifting across the nearby lake. After shaking out the last drops of water from his water bottle onto his tongue, he lightly tossed the bottle onto the passenger seat. He next dug out his car keys, dangling them briefly by a metal keychain engraved with his name before dropping them on the driver's seat. He gently closed the door and stepped away.

On foot, Steven turned for a forgotten path at the back of the small parking lot that led him into a rarely visited section of forest. He walked a quarter mile until the path crossed a larger refuge service trail. Standing at the junction, he looked up at the tall ash trees that towered around him as pines to his back whispered lightly in the breeze. The tops of the tallest trees swayed gently, their tops fluttering dazzlingly in the sunlight as various scents of pine and dry prairie grass filled his senses. Casually swatting at the biting insects, he turned in a slow circle, again soaking in his surroundings.

 _Loud or soft?_ he debated for a long moment. He continued to turn slowly, ever searching the shadows, when after one final inspection, he decided soft, by which he announced with his normal speaking voice, "You can come out now."

Steven stood silent until he was forced to swat at his leg with his baseball hat when a fly bit deep into his flesh. After a few more seconds of silence—and further swipes at insects, he walked down the service trail that led out of the forest into a section of wild prairie that had once been farmland several decades ago. When he stepped into the sunlight, he stopped and called out much louder, "You can come out now."

From behind, the faint sound of a twig cracking made Steven smile. The man turned to find Heidi stepping out of the forest, merging onto the service trail as she progressed towards him.

She wore a flowing green dress that sported simple short sleeves. Her feet were bare, just as Steven had hoped. She stopped before reaching the sun, the shadow line equally dividing them. Heidi gazed solemnly at the man, her lips pressed lightly together with apprehension.

Noticing how the biting insects had fled, the insects sensing the vampire's venom, Steven dropped his baseball hat with the knowledge that he would be safe in her presence. He stepped into the shadows and announced, "I've decided."

Though she did not need to breathe, Heidi cautiously inhaled. "So, is it ascension or death?"

"Neither," replied Steven as he continued to smile. Seeing Heidi's brow knit with confusion, his smile twisted. "I choose... _you._ I choose you. I can never express how much I've missed you."

Heidi's face became taut, and when Steven reached up to wipe away the nonexistent tear from her cheek, a tear that rightly would have streamed over her cheek had she been human, Heidi clasped his hand, kissing it before pressing the skin to her lips.

Steven cupped her facing, kissing her gently on the mouth, her cool vampire lips now a welcome sensation. When he felt the return of his affection, he kissed her longingly until their lips slowly parted and their foreheads pressed softly together. He whispered, "If I have to become a vampire to be with you, so be it."

"Okay," she whispered.

Steven slowly straightened, staring into her dark amber eyes as he continued to hold onto her hands. "I suppose I've wasted too much of your time. Your masters have been more than patient with me."

"We vampires have plenty of time," said Heidi with a hint of reservation.

"Still, I've wasted—"

"Steven, it's okay," interrupted Heidi. "Did you wake up today having made this decision?"

"No." Steven's gaze drifted off to the side as he aimlessly watched the June prairie grass sway in the summer winds. He struggled to put his thoughts into words. Gradually, his smile grew when he turned to Heidi, "I decided when I came face to face with a wolf today. I realized that the world can be as equally beautiful as it is ugly. It's just how it is. And the best way to face the ugliness is simply to live. And for me, that means dying."

"Dying?"

Licking his lips, he said, "Well, just my human self. And since I only want two things: to be with you, and to be one with nature, to enjoy nature's majesty, I might as well be a vampire. Perhaps all this is meant to be."

Sensing the increasing clamminess of Steven's skin, Heidi clutched his hands tighter. She listened to his heart race, the adrenaline fueled by his intense fear. She kissed his hand and confessed, "I missed you too."

The words made Steven smile as he leaned forward for another kiss. When their lips parted, he stepped back and whispered, "Thank you for the gift."

"What gift?" asked Heidi.

"Your lie. I know you hate lying."

"I wanted your last weeks to be...less stressful. Did it work?"

Brushing his thumb gently over the back of Heidi's hand, Steven shrugged before gently shaking his head. "Only for a day. But your deception did help me to let go, to move forward to this day. It was a beautiful lie, so I mean it when I say thank you."

Heidi swallowed hard as she re-clasped Steven's nervous hands.

Steven nodded over his shoulder. "Can you convert me over there, just over the ridge, overlooking the lake? No one will see us."

Heidi surveyed the area, listening for distant sounds of civilization. She had spent the last few weeks in this forest, watching Steven bicycle through on his daily excursions. She knew from her observations that this forest would be perfect. She nodded.

With a brave face, Steven pulled Heidi into the sunlight, his eyes widening at the diamond sparkle of her facial features. Guiding her towards the ridge along the service trail, Steven no longer looked at her with any misgivings, only admiration. When Heidi gave an affectionate squeeze of her hand in support, he asked, "Will my skin sparkle right away?"

"Yes," replied Heidi. "The intensity may increase slightly over time."

"But I'll never be as beautiful as you."

Heidi gnawed her lip, trying not to smile at such amateur flirtations, but she smiled nonetheless. She enjoyed hearing those words come from Steven. She listened to his heart pound in his chest as the scent of fear emanated from his breath and skin. Understanding that he would soon be free of fear, she held her tongue and did not pamper him.

Steven led Heidi over the ridge and down towards the lake, past a forgotten row of rotting farm fence posts that now stood sentry over the sloping prairie. He then turned off the service trail and proceeded through the prairie grass towards a grand oak tree at the edge of a lake. Under the tree, they discovered a small circle of flattened grass where deer had taken shelter from the sun the day prior.

Steven turned and asked, "Is this spot okay?"

Heidi surveyed the area again for privacy. From their vantage point, a few strides from water, they had a wide view of the wildlife refuge as gentle waves lapped the marshy shore. To Steven's benefit, the stiff breeze was cooled by the lake before sweeping up the ridge, delivering much relief from the summer sun. The nearest forest to their right circled far behind, beyond the ridge, guaranteeing privacy from the nearest gravel road. To the left, wild prairie grass swayed, painting a couple rolling hills a light green as a shallow pond in between shimmered in the sun. Past this, the undulating grass stretched onward towards another dense forest. Heidi smiled as she nodded her approval, kneeling onto the flattened grass.

Steven knelt beside her, his sweat now beading across his brow. He looked into Heidi's eyes, noticing the excitement and worry within. The adrenalin accumulating in Steven's blood forbade him from sitting still. He nervously rubbed his thighs as he turned his face towards the cool breeze rolling off the lake. He then thought of his last wish, the last thing he wanted to do as a human. He rose up onto his knees, cupped Heidi's face with both hands, and kissed her longingly.

Heidi shut her eyes, letting herself to become lost in his kiss. She found it gentle with no hint of a tongue. The kiss was not lustful, but loving.

Steven slowly pulled away, sitting back on his heels. "I'm not sure what kind of vampire I'll be, but I promise to be your devoted friend."

Heidi tried to suppress her emotions. She replied as calmly as she could, "And you too are my cherished friend. I will help you every step of the way."

Rubbing his thighs more vigorously, Steven voice strained with the growing tension, "I want to be one of those vampires that only feeds off large game. Can you help me do that?"

"I will."

"Okay. Good." Steven took a long calming breath as he stared over Heidi's shoulder at the swaying treetops. He had come to terms with this decision. He had come to admire Heidi, her amazing experiences and artful tastes. He wanted to be with her always. He closed his eyes to focus on the sounds of the lake, the prairie, and the forest. His hands slowly came to a stop atop his legs; he knew it was time.

He opened his eyes and took hold of Heidi's hands. "I'm ready."

Squeezing Steven's hands, Heidi gently raised them to her mouth, kissing each in turn. She then let one hand fall away as she repositioned the other, kissing the back of his hand once more as his fingers turned upward. She gingerly guided Steven's index finger into her mouth before applying a gentle suction.

Confused, Steven smiled at the unexpected sensation. Despite the eroticism, this had to be the farthest from his mind. "Um, Heidi, what are you do—" A needle like pain shot through the tip of Steven's finger, causing him to jerk his hand free from her grip. " _Ow!"_

"Sorry."

Steven inspected his finger to find a small dot of blood forming at the tip. He looked up at Heidi.

"I drew the blood into your finger to make it easier to pierce with my tooth. This prevents me from accidently biting into bone."

"I see." Steven licked the drop of blood from his finger. "And I half expected that you would bite my neck."

"Best to avoid unnecessary bleeding, especially if the siring vampire hasn't feed in a while."

As Steven rubbed his finger, he noticed the dark shade of Heidi's irises. "Are you hungry?"

"No. I'm midway from my next feeding. I'll be fine."

"Okay." Steven inspected his finger once again. "I'm glad this is simple."

Voluntary conversions are quite simple...by the most part. It only takes one drop of venom to begin the process. The venom replicates and spreads quickly through your bloodstream.

"Oh. Okay." Steven's face flushed a bright red, forcing him to turn towards the cooling breeze from the lake. "I'm feeling warm."

"That's part of the conversion." Heidi took hold of Steven's other hand and patted it. "You will feel quite hot before this is done."

Steven turned to her. "How hot?"

Diverting her gaze, Heidi chose not to answer, which in turn, told Steven the inevitable.

A growing sense of nausea washed over Steven has he gripped Heidi's hand for support. "How long?"

"Three or four days." Heidi reached up to brush Steven's bangs to the side. "After which, you will never again have a headache or sore body. You will never experience another cold or flu. When this is done, you will have ascended to a new plateau of consciousness. You won't even experience hot or cold ever again."

"And I will be with you," added Steven with a nervous smile. "I'd walk through fire to be your friend."

Heidi kissed Steven lightly on the lips. "I will be here, waiting for you on the other side."

Steven could more easily sense the turmoil he would soon face. Despite the immortal like benefits that awaited him, he became overwhelmed as tears flowed over his cheeks. He curled forward in a silent wail. When Heidi gently slid up along side of him, he rolled over, resting his head upon her thigh. He stared up at the mighty oak tree as Heidi combed her fingers through his hair. He wept quietly in his friend's embrace. He wept until the last remaining energy in his body had depleted, and in that exhaustion, he somehow fell asleep.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Steven awoke with a sudden jolt and began patting violently at his clothes. "I'm on fire! I'm on fire!"

Gripping his hands, Heidi stared intently into the terrified man's eyes. "You're okay; you're safe. This is part of the process."

As if invisible flames were crawling up his shirt, Steven twisted his head up and away. "How much hotter will this get?"

Hesitating, Heidi confessed, "Like you said, you will be walking through fire. Your human self has to be consumed."

Steven rose to his feet, whimpering like a child as he began pacing the circle of flattened grass. The once cool breeze now felt like hot desert winds. Accompanying the intense heat, an indescribable soreness had spread to all his muscles and joints. He stopped pacing when he noticed Heidi's concerned look from where she calmly sat. He inhaled deeply and said to her, "I can do this. I'll be strong."

Heidi forced a faint smile. "I know you will be."

Within an hour, as the summer sun hovered low on the horizon, Steven had begun to twist on the ground, no longer able remain still. He tugged at his sweat-stained clothes in search of any relief from the burning sensation. There would be no more crying in the grips of such agony. He gritted his teeth in an attempt hold back his screams.

Sensing the growing torment, Heidi gripped one of Steven's flailing hands before holding an oak stick before his face. "Steven! Steven! Bite down on this. You can scream as much as you want. The stick should muffle your voice from any chance passersby."

Steven bit onto the stick and released an animal like wail of pain. With his conversion having only begun, he could only think, _Days! Days! This is not right!_ Steven rose onto his knees, letting the stick fall from his mouth. Between gasps for air, he said, "This is wrong. This is so wrong. I need a doctor." Wanting to return to his car, Steven jumped to his feet and sprinted in the direction of the ridge. The toxin in his blood burned even hotter as he used his muscles, which in turn affected his neuromotor skills. Steven tumbled clumsily to the ground but rose quickly as he tried to run once more, only to fall hard onto his stomach within a few steps—the rough prairie grass scratching his face with each fall. He rose once more, this time attempting to walk swiftly towards his car. When he reached the top of the ridge, he collapses against one of the rotting farm fence posts in agony, the pain growing with each second.

Heidi calmly appeared at his side, kneeling next him as he clung onto the fence post. She cried out, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"

Steven pressed his head against the post, silent except for his labored breathing.

"I'm sorry," repeated Heidi before looking away, overwhelmed by her uncharacteristic worry. She reached for Steven's shoulder, stopping herself since she knew this would only cause him more physical pain. Wishing she could ease his suffering, she cried out again, "I'm sorry!"

Gasping for air, Steven focused on a small ant crawling along the base of the fence post. His pain felt as if a million ants where chewing away at his flesh, crawling through his veins, forcing their way into his head. Steven wiped away the blood and sweat beading on his face before gripping the fence post with both hands. He smashed his forehead against the post as hard as he could, feeling nothing from the impact. He quickly realized that the vampire toxin would never let him fall unconscious. When Heidi's hand came to rest on his forearm, he failed to notice her touch or how her words strained with regret; he felt nothing. He could not feel the sun or wind on his face. All the sounds of the world now fell on deaf ears. He only felt the sensation of being burnt alive.

Steven wept and screamed. His body writhed as he held onto the top of the fence post, his gaze fixed on the rotting wood. Nearly blinded by the pain, his eyes fell upon an ancient remnant of the old farm from when the post supported cattle wire: a twisted, rusty nail protruding from the wood. Steven's body became still as he glanced at vampire beside him.

Heidi leaned closer, her hand needlessly caressing his back. "What is it? What's happening?"

Steven stared into his friend's eyes for a long moment until he said, "I'm sorry." He pressed the inside of his arm against the broken nail and pulled with all his remaining energy, tearing a deep gash into his flesh from his elbow towards his wrist.

As blood splattered across Heidi's face, her vampire instinct awoke. Steven shoved his blood spurting arm into Heidi's face; subsequently, before he could wonder if she would react, the sound of his bones breaking rung in his ears as her mouth locked onto his forearm.

Heidi began consuming the young man's blood with uncontrolled fervor. The first gush of blood into her mouth tasted as sweet as blood had ever tasted. With the understanding that she was lost to her vampire bloodlust, she insanely drew in even more blood as fear entered her eyes.

With each draw of blood, Steven could feel the violent passage of blood through his various blood vessels, as if the veins and arteries were being ripped apart. The pain raced up his arm into his head as each draw caused him to cry out. With his arm firmly locked in Heidi's clenched jaw, Steven fell backward with a faint glimmer of hope that his suffering would soon end.

That hope vanished just as quickly when Jane appeared over Heidi's shoulder, followed by two male Volturi guards who appeared on either side. As Felix gripped Heidi by the shoulders, Jane said in a flat, commanding tone, "Heidi, stop."

Panic stricken, Heidi looked up at her friend, pleading with her eyes for Jane to break her bloodlust.

Jane unleashed her gift of inconceivable pain on her friend, blinding Heidi with a seething pain that caused her to release Steven's forearm, the man and vampire each collapsing to the ground in their own agony.

As Heidi clutched her head with both hands, Felix promptly tossed the woman through the air to put distance between her and Steven. And before Heidi could remount her attack—her bloodlust still apparent—Alec paralyzed the woman with his gift of sensory deprivation, leaving Heidi blind and deaf to the world.

With the rabid vampire isolated, the three remaining Volturi guards observed her, waiting for the bloodlust to quell. Within seconds, she began calling out Steven's name.

Steven held up his bloody and broken arm to Jane—the pain of broken limb completely masked by the sensation of being burnt alive. "No!" he cried. "Let her feed on me!"

Jane smiled. "Sorry. We are not going to let a little discomfort change your mind. You decided."

"Please," pleaded Steven, "I beg you. Kill me!"

"Sorry," replied Jane with an unremorseful smirk.

Steven collapsed onto the ground and began writhing in the prairie grass like a wild animal, his eyes darting in every direction until they returned to Jane, his tone now filled with rage. "Why!"

Slowly, Jane turned to her incapacitated friend, who now showed more self-control. With a faint smile, Jane leant over the writhing Steven and said, "Your part of the family now. It's now my duty to protect you."

"I hate you!"

"Good," countered Jane as she straightened, staring down her nose at the distraught man. "That's the best place to start."

Still fidgeting, Heidi clasped her hands together to show her growing composure. Despite this, her voice betrayed her distress as she called out. "Alec, you can release me now."

With an approving nod from Jane, Alec let Heidi's senses return. When Heidi swiftly returned to Steven's side, Felix positioned himself behind her should her bloodlust return.

However, Heidi's expression turned from concern to anger as her hands came to rest on her hips. "How _darrrrre YOU!_ The vampire kicked Steven in the side, breaking several ribs—the pain unnoticed by the man in light of the searing venom replicating in his blood. Taking a step back at Felix's insistence, Heidi shouted at Steven, "I would have drained you if Jane had not been here to stop me! When your ascension is complete, you and I are going to have a long talk about this."

Felix turned to Jane and Alex. "Maybe we should put this man out of his misery."

Alex smiled. "I just might agree with you, but I seem to be all out of pity at the moment."

Padding his empty pockets on his sun robe, Felix added, "Hmm, I seem to have forgotten mine in Italy."

"Shut up!" snapped Heidi.

Steven looked up Heidi, pleading again with what little of his voice remained, "Kill me."

Heidi's angry glare suddenly faded at the sight of Steven writhing in the grass. She could now see how his movement had begun to slow, filling her with worry as she turned to her friend. "Jane, what if I took too much blood?"

"You didn't."

"But what if I—"

"You didn't," injected Jane.

Heidi pushed Felix's protective hand away and knelt beside Steven. "His movements are slowing too soon."

"It's the venom," said Jane. "You know that."

Heidi returned to her feet with a growing look of concern. "I know. I..."

Jane moved to Heidi's side, gripping her friend's hand in a rare show of support. "I know." Jane then knelt beside Steven, waiting for the young man's wild eyes to meet hers. "There is something I...we can do for you, _brother._ " Jane exchanged looks with the two male Volturi guards. "We could speed things up a bit." Jane directed Heidi to step back as the male Volturi positioned themselves on each side of Steven. The three vampires each took a limb and bit into his flesh, adding their venom to his bloodstream.

Steven screamed in utmost horror as Felix's hand slammed over his mouth to muffle him. The intensity of the fire consuming his body grew until there was nothing more than an intense white light of pain. Time had stopped; the sun and the moon became one of the same as the entire world faded away, leaving Steven with the sense of being burnt alive atop an invisible funeral pyre.

Heidi returned to Steven's side, replacing Felix's hand with her own as she took responsibility for muffling his screams as the young man unknowingly tore at his own clothes, his broken arm twisting sickly as it pulled at his garments.

At the behest of their astute leader, the male guards began patrolling a wide perimeter around the site to make sure no humans strayed too close.

The first day passed without incident, followed by the second as Heidi remained diligent at Steven's side. She attended to Steven's broken arm, straightening it until the venom repaired the bones—including his ribs. The woman remained calm, happy that the venom had worked quickly, more relieved that her consumption of blood had not been a threat to Steven.

Though the conversion had progressed without major incident, Heidi's worry returned on the third day once Steven had stopped writhing, his wails subsiding until he falsely appeared to be sleeping. Heidi rose to her feet and walked up to the top of the ridge where Jane and Felix had gathered. "He's entering the final stage."

Jane remained focused on the naked body lying amidst the torn clothing and disturbed grass. "He reacted differently than most, especially at the beginning, but it's only a matter of hours now."

Heidi nodded. "He is the sensitive type."

Felix groaned.

Eyeing her large friend, Heidi chided him, "It's not a bad thing."

Finishing his latest patrol, Alex returned to the ridge. "What will he feed on?"

"Big game," replied Heidi.

The others shared looks, saying nothing in light of Heidi's unusual tension.

"What if..." Heidi turned to Jane. "What if he hates me?"

When Jane refused to answer, Felix commented plainly, "We tear his head off."

Heidi crossed her arms as she focused on Steven. "I know. What about his gift? Jane and Alec won't be able to neutralize him."

With a slim smile of unwavering confidence, Jane said, "We can deal with a newborn the old fashioned way." She placed her hand on Heidi's shoulder. "But I don't think it will come to that. The bond you two had before his conversion should still be there."

"How can you be sure?" asked Heidi.

"I can't," replied Jane. "Sometimes we just have to follow our hearts, beating or otherwise. A human friend taught me that."

Heidi took hold of Jane's hand, pulling her friend close. "How did you know that Steven would become my friend?"

"I couldn't be certain," replied Jane, "but I had a hunch. He's a puppy dog, and you're a..."

Heidi eyed her friend. "What? A bitch?"

"Strong willed," said Jane to placate her friend. "Puppy dogs tend to latch onto strong women."

Felix snickered. "Just be careful; he might chew up all your fancy shoes."

Without looking back, Heidi calmly said, "Felix, _would you kindly_ punch yourself in the face."

Before the man could curse, he punched himself hard in the face, barely noticing his own strength as his face remained unaffected. He growled as he stretched his fingers. "I told you not to do that."

"Quiet," commanded Jane in her uncanny commanding tone. "His senses could return at any minute. If he flees, we'll have to be ready."

The three Volturi spread out along the ridge to prepare themselves for the worse, each studying the landscape should things come down to a battle.

 **...**

Floating on a bed of air, Steven first heard the faint sound of birdsong broach the silence. Far from true consciousness, he next heard the wind roar through the branches of a tree as its bark stretched and creaked. A vast ocean of prairie grass then rustled loudly, reaching a cacophony before softening promptly to normal levels.

The blinding white light that he had been staring into began to fade, becoming a brilliant blue. He watched in awe as a clear sky came into view. Still unable to move or speak, he began to wonder, _Am I dreaming?_

He felt a soft breeze brush his skin as his peripheral vision spotted the sheltering oak tree at his side. Thinking that he could hear the sound of an approaching thunderstorm storm, Steven realized that his hearing had become more sensitive, that no storms were approaching. He began to focus on the sounds, isolating them in his mind to discover the source to be the breeze simply rustling the nearby prairie grass.

He tried to lift his arm, finding his limb too heavy to move. Only then did he realize that he no longer felt the intense fire. _Am I dead?_

Either way, he did not succumb to fear or worry. He continued to lay calmly under the tree, adjusting to his sharpening vision and hearing, wondering if he could actually see the stars of the universe through the blue of a daylight sky. When he realized the absence of prairie smells, or the lake, he inhaled deeply. The smells that had been absent—and others new—flooded his mind. He eyes widen with the realization, _I'm a vampire!_

Eventually, he could move his mouth, followed minutes later by his head, then his arms, and lastly, his legs. He rose slowly to his feet to discover himself naked, covered in dried blood and dirt, smelling of sweat. Around him, he found his tattered clothes amongst the disrupted prairie grass and clumps of dirt.

The flood of sensations forced him to move slow and cautious. Had he not a clear understanding of what had happened, had he been turned into a vampire without prior knowledge, he assumed that panic would have a complete hold of him, that he might have ran through the forest like a rabid animal.

With every passing second, Steven astonishment grew as his newly heightened senses discovered the environment around him. He turned towards the lake and slowly walked into the marshy shore, descending into the water to find the sensation divine, purifying. We waded out until the water reached his stomach and began to wash his body clean. _I have been reborn, baptized by fire,_ he thought.

Somewhat alarmed, he realized that he had not been breathing with having only taken short sniffs of the air to sense the environment. No longer needing to breath, he performed his first experiment and sat down onto to the silky lakebed, submerging his head beneath the water. He listened to the hidden life in the lake as his entire body seemed to sense sonically the many fish swimming in the murky shadows, including a couple turtles hovering just below the surface. He became amused when the leeches that approached did not dare latch onto his vampire skin as they sensed the danger.

When Steven finally exited the water, he inspected his healed arm, the bite mark undetectable, the broken bones perfectly mended. Observing the twinkling sunlight reflecting off his skin, he smiled as he began to ponder the purpose—if any—for this reflecting of light.

The escalation of sensations eventually became overwhelming for Steven. Returning to the center of the circle, he became completely still as he returned his attention to the sound of the soothing waves of the lake, focusing his thoughts as his mind continued to strengthen.

Over the next few hours, he contemplated his transformation. He believed he was still Steven, that the change did destroy his human persona. His values had not been forsaken, his beliefs unchanged. He still valued human life, though he could no longer call himself one. He still longed to explore the same forest, to listen to the same music.

Recalling more of his favorite things and activities, one seemed different: he found the idea of his favorite foods simply memories, already foreign in nature.

There was one important change, he no longer felt alone. He had not forgotten Heidi. In fact, his thoughts swirled around her from the moment he had awoken. He had hurt her, and the guilt for what he had done to her weighed on him. Queerly, he wallowed happily in his guilt, pleased that becoming vampire had not destroyed his apathy.

Acclimating more to his changes, he began to focus solely on Heidi. He could sense her unease without needing to look back at the ridge—he had noticed all of the Volturi and their observation shortly after awaking. Sensing her anguish, he smiled at her struggle at remaining absolutely still.

Having passed through this unforeseen veil into a secret world, Steven shuddered at the graceful understanding that he had truly ascended. With new senses that would let him rediscover the universe—on new unimaginable levels—infused him with endless warmth. Perhaps he had died, but death was not an end, he knew this now, for someday, he would stop being a vampire and continue life's journey. Until then, his un-beating heart had already begun to swell with passion, admiration, and joy for the one special person who had bestowed this gift to him.

Lightly clearing his throat, Steven better understood that he only had to speak softly for her to hear him. He whispered, "Heidi, I love you."

The woman appeared instantly at his side, the wind from her flash of movement sweeping around them, throwing her hair forward about her face and shoulders. When she brushed the hair aside, her eyes, though dry, appeared vulnerable.

Steven reached for her hands to find them soft and warm, their bodies now equal in composition. He looked into her eyes and said, "I'm sorry. Can you ever forgive—"

She kissed him, wrapping her arms around him tight, in way that seemed she would never let go.

His head still spinning, Steven playful finished his question as soon as their lips parted, "—me?"

"As long as you promise not to do that to me ever again."

"I promise." When Steven heard the sigh of disgust from Felix, he could not help but laugh, and laugh he did, without reservation, something he had not done in a very long time.

Felix turned to Jane. "Are we done babysitting?"

With her eyes fixed on the couple, Jane replied with a simple, "Soon."

Steven recalled Jane's words that tauntingly welcomed him to the Volturi. He understood fully that her words carried truth. Human Steven dreaded the thought of being part of a coven. Alternatively, he now had Heidi, and he had a purpose—even if it was only to stand by her side. He belonged to a family now, something he thought he would never experience again. Keeping Heidi in his embrace, he looked up at the three Volturi guards standing along the ridge, and softly said to the smallest one, as if the woman stood directly before him, "Thank you, Jane."

Those simple words, and the sincerity they carried, were all the affirmation Jane needed to prove that his ascension had succeeded— _better than expected,_ she thought. With a faint smile forming on her tight lips, she replied softly, "You're welcome, Steven. The two of you have a month to adjust, to...celebrate. After which, I expect to see you in Italy. We have work to do."

As the three Volturi turned to leave the forest, their acute hearing discerned the couple embracing in a kiss. A faint groan of displeasure rose out of Felix, followed by Alec's words to his sister, "You will probably regret this."

Jane frowned with disgust as she attempted to ignore the audible spectacle. "Let's hope they get it out of their systems quickly."

Having his doubts, Felix groaned once more, concluding his sentiment with a heartfelt curse in an ancient tongue.

Author's note: One more chapter to go.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Led by Jane, a silent procession of main Volturi guard entered the master's throne room. Alec, Felix, and Demetri took their places to the right of their subordinate leader, Jane. Heidi and Steven entered soon after, holding hands as they stood to the left.

Though Steven found it easy to stand motionless as a vampire, his insides tightened nonetheless with meeting the masters for the first time. Assured by Heidi that he need not worry, he still dreaded the moment as he steadied himself.

Steven looked up at the three men sitting in their great chairs, and under the weight of their stares, bowed slowly before them—much to the bewilderment of all in the room. Steven then said, "Thank you, Masters, for your patience. I will do my utmost to serve you."

Caius rolled his eyes as he turned to his partners and said in Latin, "Looks as if he's been house broken."

Felix snickered as Jane's brother and Demetri grinned.

Aro smiled modestly as he gazed down at the newest member of the coven and asked in English, "How many languages do you speak?"

Steven swallowed and said, "Just English, Master. Heidi has begun teaching me Italian."

Heidi cupped Steven's hand within both of hers. "He's a fast learner, as expected. I shall teach him Latin next."

"Very good," replied Aro. "We will then speak in English during this introduction." Aro eyed the couple's handholding. "I see things have turned out well between you two."

Though physically impossible as a vampire, Steven thought he felt his cheeks flush. "Yes, sir. Love seems to have found its mark."

Caius again rolled his eyes, his glare coming to rest on Steven. "Love doesn't exist. The feeling is merely the absence of hate and the resulting freedom from fear."

Smiling, Steven proudly lifted his chin and said, "Well then, I hate Heidi the least of anyone in the world."

As Heidi responded with a long, ' _aaaaah'_ , the others in the chamber countered with various slighted comments and groans of annoyance.

Felix turned to Jane, "I blame you."

"Believe me," began Jane; "I hate myself more than anyone else right now.

Leaning forward in his chair, Marcus curtly asked the question that had brought everyone together, "What can you do?"

Steven's brow rose nervously. "Excuse me, Master?"

" _What_...can you do?"

Heidi replied on Steven's behalf, "He appears to only be immune to those with a gift."

Marcus fell back against his chair. "How disappointing."

Steven's eyes subconsciously scanned the room, not enjoying being the center of attention. "Sorry, master," he said as human Steven would.

Aro rose from his chair and approached the couple. "Perhaps you just need more time to discover your talent. May I?" Aro held out his hand towards Steven.

Understanding that the master wanted to read his mind, Steven offered his hand to the vampire. In mere seconds, his hand slipped loosely from Aro's grip when the master came up empty.

"Maybe...," began Caius, his eyes falling on Heidi, "our new friend needs some motivation to discover his abilities. Jane."

Understanding completely, Heidi sighed as she released Steven's hand and took a step back.

Knowing that Jane's gift had no effect on him, Steven became visibly confused as he turned from Jane to the masters. "What are you doing?"

"You claim to love our precious Heidi," said Caius. "What would you do to spare her from unspeakable pain?"

Steven swiftly stepped between Heidi and Jane as he spoke. "I'd do anything for her. But I know that I cannot fight Jane."

"We don't expect you to," said Caius with visible annoyance. "Use your gift to protect her."

"What gift?" pleaded Steven.

"You tell us," retorted the Caius. "Jane."

Screaming out in pain, Heidi dropped to her knees as Jane flooded her mind with unspeakable pain. The woman continued screaming as she rolled forward into a ball.

"Stop! Stop it!" Steven turned to Jane, futilely raising his arm in the air in the hope of shielding Heidi, but the woman he loved continued to writhe in pain. Quickly accepting his inability to stop Jane, he dropped his arms and turned to the masters. "Please."

Caius frowned with disappointment and ordered Jane to stop.

Heidi's screams ceased immediately, almost as quickly as the torture had begun. She rose promptly to her feet before Steven could offer his hand and began brushing off her sun robe. She glared at her friend. "You enjoyed that."

Jane remained stoic, but confessed, "A little."

Steven took hold of Heidi's hand and asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, of course," she replied. "You know that."

"I suppose I do." He then turned to the masters. "I will continue my...soul searching, if you want to call it that, to see if I can do...anything...something. I don't know. My whole life I've been a nobody. No one ever noticed me in school. I was never asked to parties. I basically grew up alone. I was a ghost as far as my home town was concerned."

Marcus slowly straightened in his chair. "A ghost?" He immediately exchanged looks with his two comrades.

Aro stepped around Steven, contemplating the unspoken suggestion.

Caius remained skeptical as he spoke. "That was well before our time, brother. We have never met anyone who had encountered a vampire with such talents."

Marcus shrugged. "Those who spoke of it were adamant."

Steven turned to Heidi, who looked just as confused as all the junior guards. Steven looked to Aro as the senior vampire continued to circle him. "Master?"

"Ah," began Aro, coming to a stop before the other masters. "Legend spoke of a vampire immune to the laws of this world, physics to be more precise. This vampire had the ability to pass through solid objects at will."

"I can't do that," said Steven.

Aro thought for a moment before asking, "Ah, but have you tried?"

"Um," Steven glanced at Heidi, smiling when he realized that he had not technically tried to pass through a wall. "I guess I haven't, Master."

Gesturing to the nearest chamber wall, Aro said, "Go ahead then."

Steven continued to smile as he approached the wall, placing his hand firmly upon the flat surface. Focusing on the texture of the coarse wall, he looked back at the occupants of the room and declared, "Nothing."

"Focus!" snapped Marcus.

Startled, Steven's smile vanished as his eyes turned down to the floor. He slowly lifted his gaze as his hand still pressed against the wall, thinking, _What the hell are they expecting._ Pressing harder, he wiggled his fingers as his thoughts returned to Heidi from when they spent several nights on a secluded beach on an abandoned island just off the coast of Africa. Recalling how he never felt hot or cold, he then remembered the feeling of the sand between his toes. He then felt the chamber wall unexpectedly move. He pulled back his hand as Heidi's loud gasp resonated through chamber. Briefly looking back at the astounded faces staring back at him, he again placed his hand against the wall and thought of the sandy beach as he watched his hand sink into the stonework, up to his wrist, before carefully withdrawing.

Heidi moved to his side. "What does it feel like?"

Steven shifted his eyes between his hand, Heidi, and the masters. "Um...when my hand enters the wall, it feels much like sticking your hands into wet sand, not on the beach, but in the water, where the sand is more...fluid. It doesn't hurt."

Leaning forward, in his chair, Marcus gestured again at the wall. "See if you can pass your whole body through."

Steven looked nervously at the wall, mostly concerned at what might happen to his eyes, or his brain, while passing through. Then an even more worrisome thought struck him. He turned to the masters. "What if my whole body becomes...porous? Will I fall through the middle of the earth, down to the core?"

Marcus straightened in his chair as he contemplated the idea. After a few seconds, he faintly shook his head. "If I remember correctly, your gift only works on objects you focus on. If you don't focus on passing through the floor, you won't."

"Okay," said Steven, unable to hide his apprehension. He turned to the stone wall and pressed against it. _Oh hell,_ he thought as his hand began passing through. He continued forwards as if slipping between a pair of curtains. When his head reached the wall, his vision blurred into shadows. The darkest parts that he could distinguish, he assumed were boulders that made up the thick insides of the wall, the lighter shadows being the dirt filler in between. He continued forward, when to his relief, his vision returned. He found himself in a darken corridor—naked. He looked back at the wall with the realization that he had also walked through his clothing when the fabric ran up against a solid object.

Steven giggled with delight as he inspected his body, running his fingers through his hair that too had passed through without incident.

He returned to the wall with a growing confidence and stepped forward with lowered hands, striking his head against the stonework with a loud thump. As he rubbed his forehead—out of habit, he pressed his free hand against the wall, waiting for it to sink through the stone after deeper focusing. _Don't get cocky you idiot,_ he thought. _Like anything else, it will take practice._

Steven slowly passed the rest of his body into the wall, moving slowly through the sensation of fluidic sand until his vision returned with his entering into the master's chamber. His human modesty having not yet worn off, he cupped his hands over his genitals. "You're correct, Master, I must have this…ghost gift. I sense that I can do even more."

Having picked up Steven's clothes, Heidi passed them to Steven. "I'll be more than happy to help you discover them."

"Thank you," said Steven in response to the offer—and his clothing. He began dressing after an approving nod from a very satisfied Marcus.

Aro, who also appearing quite pleased at this discovery, turned to his brothers seated in their thrones. "If I remember correctly, ghosts are not bound by the laws of earth. More importantly, ghosts can act as conduits as a result of this freedom."

Caius's brow knitted with intrigue. "How so, brother."

"I'll show you." Aro waited for Steven to don his trousers and then held out his hand to the nervous young vampire. When Steven accepted it, Aro said, "Now take hold of Heidi's hand."

When Steven gripped her hand, a strange sense of energy, not quite electric, began to pass through his body, the sensation reminding him of the feeling of a large train racing past a train crossing. Steven first turned to an apparently unaffected Heidi before turning to Aro, whose smile grew as the seconds passed. When Aro released his hand, the peculiar sensation ceased.

Aro laughed with excitement as he smiled at Heidi. "My dear, I feel exactly the same. I couldn't be happier for the two of you."

With a bashful smile, Heidi pressed her lips together as she tightened her grip on Steven's hand. "Thank you, Master."

Caius then asked Steven, "Can you pull someone along with you through the wall?"

Gazing at Heidi's hand in his grip, Steven calmly escorted her to the wall like a gentleman. With their fingers entwined, Steven pressed the back of his hand against the stone as he began to focus. When his hand passed into the wall, Heidi's followed without incident, their arms disappearing deeper into the stonework.

With a hint of excitement—and intense concern, Heidi said, "Don't let go. I'd hate to become stuck in stone."

"I won't, my love. I will never let go."

Felix again groaned with displeasure, the sound seemingly louder than before.

The couple smiled in response to the large vampire's criticism, before pulling their arms out of the wall.

Heidi proclaimed, "It does feel like fluid sand."

With a loud, single clap, Aro clasped his hands together. "This is wonderful. Imagine how useful this could be during our inquiries."

Caius's smile turned mischievous, "Or when we need to visit a bank vault."

Marcus leaned back against his chair. "Maybe even modern electronic security. Something tells me that this lad could pass through more than walls."

"Shields!" said Jane with some excitement.

When the room turned to Jane, they saw something they had not seen in decades: a genuine smile that stretched from ear to ear.

Jane stared at Steven with growing affection, much like that for a new toy—or weapon. Rolling off her tongue, one word explained her exultation: " _Bella_."

 **End of book one.**

Author's note: After this author finds a new job, I will begin book two. The subsequent book will cover Steven's new hunger and how he must accept the fact that he must kill, that hunger always wins. Besides mastering his gift, Steven will begin to hear faint whispers that he does not understand. Fearing that he might be a vampire sinking into madness, he will meet new characters along the way: a woman with yellow, cat-like eyes, a woods witch, a blind musician, and more. Jane and Heidi will begin her search for the lost crystal, knowing that extreme plotting will be needed for where they most travel.

As always, my fan fiction is available for free in Kindle, ePub, and PDF formats for those who prefer not to read the HTML format, like my mother. www stuartpidasso com/the-solemn-taste


End file.
